


novo amor

by renhyuck (thereisnoreality)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Background Relationships, Emotional Constipation, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-23 19:58:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18708964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thereisnoreality/pseuds/renhyuck
Summary: He turns to Johnny as he reaches the door, a sad look on his face, but Johnny knows not to be fooled. He’s proven right in the next second as Donghyuck’s expression melts away to arch an eyebrow at Johnny. “You can’t always chase away every boy I pull into bed, you know.”“I can if they make you late for things,” Johnny grunts, reaching past him to twist the doorknob open.





	novo amor

**Author's Note:**

> ahhh it's finally done! thank you so much to my lovely, lovely beta who endured my endless complaints and whining with so much patience. thanks to berry and leo who convinced me the fic wasn't shit and that i shouldn't drop kick it off the edge of a building, i don't know what i'd do without you <333\. 
> 
> this is inspired off this [cc](https://curiouscat.me/millennium/post/794251515?t=1550797525) thanks to reem for letting me take this universe and twist it to suit my nefarious goals <3.
> 
> as always, a [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/thereisnoreality/playlist/7D3W8RNC0ebUNW4nkOtVSp?si=1TFM5wpnQ7iwBGvZwQe24A)

_Four Years Ago_

Johnny becomes Donghyuck’s - no, Haechan’s - manager after Haechan wins his first MAMA award.

On that day, Johnny remembers sitting in his living room in early December, flipping through the channels absently to land upon the MAMA Awards just in time to see up and coming soloist Lee Haechan win Best Male Artist of the year, a mere two years after debut. He remembers raising an eyebrow and thinking how far the industry had fallen. He remembers pitying the manager who had to deal with Haechan’s inflated ego, which would now be almost certainly doubled after winning an award so early in his career. He remembers being glad he’d retired (completely ignoring the fact that he’d have never retired if he hadn’t been virtually forced into it, the heft of a large retirement package doing nothing to ease the bitter slide of coming home in the middle of the day, with nothing left to fill his days but silence and boredom).

He should have known that when he received the phone call the next morning, blearily fumbling around in bed to turn the annoying vibrations off, that thinking such things would only lead to his downfall.

“What?” He grumbles once he picks up, eyes still closed. There’s a muffle of conversation and Johnny squints at his phone, pulling it away from his ear only to realise the phone was upside down. He groans, flipping it around and putting it back to his ear. “Wait, say that again?”

“Mr. Moon was wondering if you were free for a meeting today,” comes a terse voice from the receiver.

Johnny frowns. “I don’t know a Mr. Moon.”

There’s a short huff, something that could almost be qualified as a sigh if the other person had been patient enough to let it leave his lips fully. “Moon CEO of Moon Entertainment,” the other voice says, and Johnny can hear the rapid flipping of paper on the other end. “Would like to request your presence at his office today at noon, if you are free, of course.” His tone implies that he’d only added the last bit out of courtesy.

Johnny sits up in bed, staring in confusion at the opposite wall. The ugly yellow flowered wallpaper that came with the place is peeling at the corners and the pile of books by the closet is teetering dangerously, on the verge of falling over.

Moon Entertainment. It had come onto the scene as a new company less than three years ago, and in that time had seen a meteoric rise in the market, all mostly due to one idol in its company - Lee Haechan. It was now _the_ company to go for if you wanted a chance in the cruel and unforgiving world of the entertainment industry, and Johnny remembers thinking how much he’d have liked to work there. If he hadn’t become a household name for disgraced careers. “Moon CEO?” Johnny echoes. “Wants to see me? Are you sure you’ve got the right person?”

“I’ll tell him you’re free then, shall I?” The voice says. “Please be at the offices by noon. Ask for Sicheng.” There’s a click and then Johnny’s left listening to the dial tone, still staring in confusion at his bedroom wall.

 

Johnny manages to haul himself down to Gangnam with ten minutes to spare, having managed to run out of his apartment, freshly shaved for the first time in weeks, and digging his one good coat out of the back of the closet before jogging to the closest subway. He brushes in through the pristine revolving doors, hurriedly sweeping his hair back and hoping he looks something on this side of presentable after that large gust of wind had hit him on the way down the street.

The receptionist looks up with a warm expression, the smile fading when she sees Johnny’s messy appearance. “How can I help you?”

“I’m here to see,” Johnny takes a gulp of air, trying to catch his breath. “Sicheng?”

The receptionist raises her eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

Johnny scowls down at her. “I think I’d know whom I’m supposed to be meeting.”

She purses her lips but picks up the phone nonetheless, and Johnny takes the time to pull off his coat, folding it over his arm and trying to fix his hair in the reflection of his phone screen. “You can go up,” the receptionist says, putting the phone back down. “20th floor.”

“Thank you,” Johnny says, bowing his head shortly before turning on his heel and heading for the elevators.

While Moon Entertainment was famous in the industry, its CEO was a mystery. From what Johnny could glean in his short research - if typing his name into the Naver search bar could be called as such - CEO Moon Taeil was young for his position, only a couple of years older than Johnny himself, and had built the company from almost nothing. It had only been in the second year of the company - the year Haechan had debuted - that investors started looking his way. Now Moon Taeil sat at the top of a list of very powerful men in the industry and Johnny was absolutely terrified of meeting him. This man could renew his very shattered reputation in the idol industry, and even the thought of getting a chance back made Johnny’s stomach clench in painful anticipation.

Sicheng, Moon CEO’s secretary, greets him with a slight nod, barely glancing up from his computer as he gestures for Johnny to take a seat. “He’ll be with you shortly,” Sicheng says, fingers flying over the keys.

“Do you perhaps know what this is about?” Johnny asks, anxiously pushing his hair back again.

Sicheng raises an eyebrow at him. “I do not have the privilege of being privy to all of the CEO’s thoughts,” he says crisply and Johnny winces.

He sits there in silence, anxiety mounting with every passing second, and just as he’s about to either pass out or throw up from the nervousness, the door opens and Moon Taeil steps out.

The first thing Johnny notices is the cane. It’s ornately decorated, a large eagle sitting at the top with what looks like rubies for eyes. The second thing he realises, is that Moon Taeil is wearing sweatpants in his office at noon. The third thing he figures out is that Moon Taeil is probably one of the most eccentric people he’s ever met.

“Darling,” Moon sings, swinging around the door and leaning against Sicheng’s desk, propping his chin up on his elbow and staring down at Sicheng with, if Johnny were pressed to describe, sparkling hearts in his eyes. “Who’s my next appointment?”

“I’ve asked you not to call me that while we’re at work, sir.” Sicheng responds, flicking through the massive pile of papers on his desk.

Moon _pouts_ and Johnny stares. “We’re still married at work, aren’t we?” He says. “And you know how I hate it when you call me ‘sir’.”

“And I’ll continue to do it, sir, as long as we’re at work,” Sicheng says, before jerking his chin at Johnny. “Your twelve o’clock is here for you.”

Moon turns around and Johnny jerks upright in his chair. “Hello, sir,” he says, hurriedly getting up out of his seat and sticking out a hand. “It’s an honour to meet you.”

“Oh,” Moon says, staring at his hand before taking it with a wide grin. “You must be Seo Youngho.”

“Johnny, please,” Johnny says, trying for a smile despite the stress threatening to roil his stomach.

“Then you have to stop calling me sir,” Moon waves his hand as he sweeps his cane leaning against the side of Sicheng’s desk up and leading them into his office. “I get enough from that one, every day.” He jerks his thumb at Sicheng, who shoots them a droll look before turning back to his work as the door shuts behind Johnny.

“Of-of course, Moon-ssi,” Johnny says, lowering himself onto his seat as Moon walks around to his, carefully leaning the cane against the side of the desk. The eagle head swivels to stare one impressively jeweled eye at Johnny and he swallows, trying to steady himself.

“Taeil, please.” Taeil says. “It sounds awfully stuffy when you say it like that.”

Johnny blinks at him. “If you’re sure, sir- Taeil.”

“Of course. Now,” he laces his fingers, smile falling away in the next second and suddenly Johnny understands how Moon Taeil had managed to rise to the top of such a cutthroat industry in such a short time. That look was nothing short of terrifying. “Down to business.”

“Yes,” Johnny sits up straighter, clearing his throat.

“I assume you’ve heard of Lee Haechan?” Taeil asks.

Johnny blinks. “I- yes, I have. He’s your most popular idol isn’t he?” _And the most troublesome_ Johnny thinks to himself but he doesn’t dare voice that out loud.

However, Taeil seems to understand what Johnny doesn’t say, and a wry smile twists around his mouth. “Among other things, yes.” He agrees. “He’s also one of our most… vexing I suppose is the most fitting word.”

Johnny can’t suppress the snort that escapes him. You’d have to be blind, deaf, completely removed from the world, or all three, to not know who Haechan was - or the trouble he’d caused. He was the very definition of a wunderkind, debuting at a perilously young sixteen years of age, smashing album sales and winning his first music show three weeks after debut. He was both the darling and demon of the media, having been plastered across the front pages for controversy after controversy and yet, he managed to thrive. Managed to sell more albums, garnered more views, collected more fans after every comeback. A veritable hydra all on his own.

Taeil nods in agreement. “Unfortunately, he’s far too good for me to drop him,” he says, leaning back against his chair. “And even more so, I’ve become rather fond of the brat in all the years we’ve known each other. So the final option was you.”

Johnny stares. “I’m sorry,” he says, leaning forward a little in his chair. “I don’t quite follow.”

Taeil regards him, raising an eyebrow. “You were famous, do you know that?” When Johnny doesn’t say anything, Taeil goes on. “You became almost as famous as the idols you worked for. Your attitude, your work ethic, the results-” He cuts off, narrowing his eyes. “There are no secrets in this industry, Johnny, you must know this at least. And you were one of those most coveted secrets.” He pauses, as if delicately searching for the words. “Until your… ah, _unfortunate_ resignation.”

“You mean my dismissal,” Johnny says roughly, forgetting for a second that he’s speaking to one of the most powerful men in the entertainment world. “And then subsequent lambasting.”

Taeil hums. “Indeed. Now I hardly care about the reasons behind your dismissal - inane as I found them - because it leads to my gain. Only if you accept, of course.”

“And, what exactly am I accepting?” Johnny asks, still confused.

Taeil blinks at him. “To become Haechan’s manager. Starting immediately.”

Johnny’s mouth drops open and he stares at Taeil as deadly silence falls around them. “You can’t be serious.” He exhales. “You’re the CEO.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Taeil says wryly.

“You’re the CEO,” Johnny presses. “Why would you take time out of your day to try and talk _me_ into a job?”

Taeil leans forward in his chair. “Because it’s an important job, Johnny. The most important job you’ll ever take. He’s going to do great things, he’s got the _potential_ to be the biggest star this nation has ever seen, but he needs a push in the right direction.”

“And you think I can give him that?” Johnny asks in disbelief. “I’m just a manager - not even that - I’m an ex-manager. I haven’t worked in this industry in two years.”

“I know you can,” Taeil says, and there’s something far too fierce in his eyes for Johnny to handle. He’d spent the last two years draining his savings bit by bit, taking odd jobs just so he wouldn’t lose his apartment, and wondering at what he was supposed to do with the rest of his life. And now, here was this opportunity, this massive sign of trust being thrust in his direction. It was almost too much to handle.

The door opens, jerking Johnny out of his daze, and he turns to see Sicheng stick his head in. “He’s here, sir.”

“Ah, excellent,” Taeil waves his hand. “Let him in.” He turns to Johnny. “You might think I’m crazy, or that I’m placing too much trust in you and you’d be right, on both accounts. But I hope I can convince you otherwise.” And he nods to the door just as Haechan walks in.

For some reason, Johnny always thought Haechan would be taller. He plasters a faintly neutral look on his face, drawing from years of experience, if nothing else, as he watches Haechan cross the room.

“Donghyuck-ah,” Taeil says genially, gesturing for Haechan to take the seat next to Johnny. “How have you been? How were the MAMA’s?”

“Predictable,” Haechan says, sprawling in the chair and casting Johnny a bored look. “Who’s he?”

Taeil’s smile doesn’t waver. “This is Seo Youngho- I’m sorry, Seo Johnny. He’s here as a potential manager, for you.”

Haechan raises an eyebrow. “What happened to Seungwan noona?”

“She quit,” Taeil’s smile becomes fixed. “Apparently you were ‘quite a handful’.” He lowers his hands after forming the quotation marks. “And now I’m here scrambling to find you someone new. Be grateful, brat.”

Haechan stares at Taeil, smirk tipping up to his mouth. “Thanks, old man,” he says sweetly, but there’s the tinge of poison dripping from every word and it stuns Johnny in its viciousness. “I’m ever so grateful for the many _arduous_ tasks you take on for me.”

Johnny blinks in shock, but Taeil seems to take no offense as he turns back to Johnny. “So, you’ve seen what you’ll be dealing with,” he says, an edge of weariness colouring his tone, and out of the corner of his eye, Johnny can see Haechan’s smirk widen, self-satisfaction painting his young face. “Still interested?”

 

 

_One Month Ago_

Johnny keys in the passcode to Donghyuck’s apartment, suppressing a yawn as he scratches at his neck. The itchy scarf had been digging into the curve under his jaw for hours now, but it’s brutally cold outside and he’s loathe to remove the warm cocoon around his neck. All the lights are off when Johnny steps in, and he carefully maneuvers around the pile of shoes in the entryway before making his way to the kitchen, dropping the parcels of food on the counter and flicking on half the lights in the main room so he can see where he’s going. He doesn’t need it though - at this point, Johnny’s as familiar with Donghyuck’s apartment as he is his own, if not more.

Donghyuck’s sprawled atop the covers, still in last night’s practice clothes and snoring a little, the sound muffled from where his face is pushed into the pillow. Johnny sighs and flicks on the hallway light so as not to blind him before carefully moving around the pile of books by Donghyuck’s bedside to nudge him awake.

“Donghyuck,” he says softly, tapping Donghyuck’s shoulder. “You need to get up, you’ve got to be at the studios in less than an hour.”

Donghyuck groans, picking his head up from the pillow a smidge to glare at Johnny through newly dyed bangs. “Whatimessit?”

“A little past five,” Johnny says, moving away to grab Donghyuck’s bag. “Come on, we have to be there at six thirty for rehearsals. Get up.”

Donghyuck lets out a whine, slumping back into his covers for five seconds, taking three deep breaths. Johnny waits, patient in the outcome he knows will always come. At the end of the fifth second, Donghyuck sits up, rolling out of bed and into the hallway in one motion, batting in the general direction of the light as he trudges to the bathroom.

“Good job,” Johnny calls, amused despite himself, and heads to the kitchen to make both of them coffee. Donghyuck owns a horribly expensive coffee maker that he’s never once touched and Johnny secretly suspects Donghyuck had only bought it because Johnny would make them both coffee in the morning if it had been there.

By the time Donghyuck leaves the bathroom, fully washed up and changed, the coffee’s ready to go and steaming in the two massive travel mugs and Johnny’s waiting by the door, food in hand. “Got your bag?” He asks as Donghyuck pulls his hood up, eyes still closed as he shoves his feet blindly into whatever shoes are closest. “I’m not buying for you again if you forget your wallet.”

“Yes, you will,” Donghyuck mutters, taking one of the mugs from Johnny’s hand and pushing past him to the hallway. “I’m your charge, you have to take care of me.”

“You make more money than me,” Johnny reminds him as they head to the car. “Much, much more.”

There’s silence and for a second Johnny thinks Donghyuck might have fallen asleep on his feet - it wouldn’t be the first time - before Donghyuck peers up at him, his hood falling off in the motion. “As if you wouldn’t empty your pockets the second you thought I was hungry,” he teases, a small smile flickering over his face, before climbing into the van. “Half of it’s yours, anyways.”

“What?” Johnny asks in confusion, but Donghyuck pulls his hood back over his head and promptly passes out in the backseat, leaving him with no answer.

Johnny sighs and starts the car, cuing up his current favourite ballad, a recent release by Doyoung Kim, and pulls onto the highway, humming along as the sun rises to his east.

 

 

The newest album by Haechan hit the music industry last week, and Johnny’s viciously proud of how well it’s done despite having no work in the actual album itself. Donghyuck had run himself ragged the last three months, recording, taping the mv’s, and learning three different choreos for the three songs he was going to promote - on his own insistence - and there’s something protective that rears up in Johnny’s chest - something he doesn’t like to examine too closely in fear of if he doesn’t like what he finds - when he sees the tired but satisfied look on Donghyuck’s face as he checks the rankings, the articles, and a hundred million other things that would easily ruin his day had they contained bad news.

“Hyung,” Donghyuck says, next to Johnny in the passenger seat, feet thrown up on the dashboard despite Johnny’s noise of warning. They’re heading to a fansign in Daegu and they’d left early in the morning. Donghyuck had passed out for the first two hours, waking up just in time as Johnny pulled into a rest stop to get more coffee. “I was thinking.”

“Always a dangerous thing,” Johnny hums, smirking when Donghyuck lets out a noise of protest.

“I was _thinking_ ,” Donghyuck presses, leaning forward to lower the volume on the music. “Of the day we met.”

Johnny arches an eyebrow, casting a brief glance sideways at him before turning his gaze back to the road. “Why?”

“Well, we’ve been together for so long,” Donghyuck sighs, stretching in his seat, body curving over the back of the seat as his back pops in several places. Johnny grabs his shoulder and forces him back down before he injures himself.

“Four years,” Johnny says mildly. “I should get some kind of an award for putting up with you for this long. God knows it hasn’t been easy.”

“Haha,” Donghyuck snarks, deadpan, settling back in his seat and kicking his feet back up. “I was wondering though. Why’d you take the job?”

“What?”

“Why’d you take it?” Donghyuck insists. “I know you heard the rumours about me. You must have known what a nightmare I was. Why’d you do it?”

“The money,” Johnny teases. “You don’t know the joy of going back to the good ramen, Hyuck-ah. Not when all you’ve been able to afford was the cheap shit.”

“I’m serious,” Donghyuck says, and when Johnny flicks another glance at him, he sees Donghyuck staring straight at him, teeth digging into his bottom lip, creating a mess that the stylist will almost certainly yell at him for.

Johnny takes a breath, thinking about his next words. “Because Taeil told me how important you were. How you were going to do great things. If you had someone to help you there.”

“And you believed him?”

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I?” Johnny asks with a little laugh.

“What- what about now?” Donghyuck asks, and there’s something in his tone that makes Johnny look at him again, foot unconsciously easing off the accelerator. “Have I lived up to your expectations?”

“Hyuck-ah,” Johnny says. “I don’t have any expectations for you. I’m so proud of what you’ve become, _who_ you’ve become and I’m just content to watch you do your thing. But,” he smiles, pressing back down on the pedal and turning his gaze back to the horizon. “If you’re asking for past me? I’d say you smashed every single one to pieces.”

The force of the shy smile that springs up on Donghyuck’s face lights up the car from the inside out, negating the need of the sun to shine the way. Johnny smiles to himself and turns the music back up, letting himself bask in the warmth that pours out next to him.

_3 Years and 9 Months Ago_

The mirrors of the practice room are steamed up to the point that Johnny’s sure Donghyuck can’t see any of his moves. The humidity hits him in the face when he steps in and Johnny winces, yanking off his hoodie as he shuts the door behind him.

“Donghyuck.” Johnny says but Donghyuck ignores him, eyes fixed on his reflection as he hits every beat in perfect precision. Johnny says his name again but is ignored once more. Johnny sighs, though he can’t even hear it over the pounding music, and walks across the room to the computer, shutting it off.

Donghyuck whirls around, his face darkening with anger. “I wasn’t done.”

“Yes, you are,” Johnny says, scrubbing at his face. “I feel exhausted just watching you dance.”

“Lucky for you, you’re not the one doing it,” Donghyuck snaps, striding forward to turn the music back on.

Johnny grabs his wrist before he can even reach the mouse and glowers down at him. Donghyuck glares right back up at him, none of the fire in his eyes quailing under Johnny’s gaze. “You’ve been here since lunchtime. It’s one am. You’re stopping.”

“You’re not my boss,” Donghyuck snaps.

“No, but I was hired by him,” Johnny says, moving sideways to shut the computer down. “So that means I have a say.”

Donghyuck snarls something wordless but rips his hand away from Johnny’s hold. “You can turn off my music, but you can’t make me leave.”

Johnny sighs again, but lets him go back to the center of the room. Short of hauling Donghyuck out of the room on his shoulder, there really is nothing he can do and he’s learnt, by much trial and error, that at times it’s just best to let Donghyuck do what he wants. “Go crazy,” he says, crossing to the back wall and sinking to the ground, pulling his laptop open. There’s about a thousand emails he’s got to wade through and he’s fine waiting for Donghyuck to tire himself out. He knows how to pick his battles.

It lasts something like two hours. Johnny’s actually surprised as he watches Donghyuck slow his dancing down to nanoseconds, completely focused on himself in the mirror, eyes catching every single twitch of his muscles. All without the presence of music. Johnny’s seen a lot of scarily determined in his career, has seen hundreds of idols tire themselves out in front of the unforgiving glass but pick themselves back up to keep going, has seen them run themselves ragged in search of that ever eluding result. None of them come close to Donghyuck.

Sometime past three am, when Johnny’s eyes burn with each blink and his inbox has been half cleared out, Donghyuck comes to a stop, bent over and gasping for air. Sweat drips from every part of his body and his shirt is soaked through.

Johnny eyes him for a second, waiting to see if he’ll start up again, but when Donghyuck doesn’t move, still panting for air, he gets up, grabbing a water bottle.

“Here,” Johnny holds out the bottle under Donghyuck’s nose. Donghyuck looks up at him, bangs plastered to his forehead and swallows as he takes it, knees buckling in the next second. Johnny sits down next to him, watching their reflection in the mirror. Donghyuck looks impossibly tiny beside him and under the weight of his exhaustion, it only seems amplified. “You want to tell me what’s wrong with you?”

Donghyuck snorts, wiping his mouth and planting the open water bottle on the ground. Johnny scoops it up and twists the cap shut on it despite the fact that it’s empty. “Maybe I just hate you.”

Johnny smiles. “Maybe,” he says. “But you’d have acted like this the whole time then, and you’ve been- well, not _civil_ \- but something close to that. Sort of.”

Donghyuck’s small smile is a surprise to Johnny and apparently to Donghyuck himself, who looks shocked at himself before turning back to the mirror and wiping the smile off his face.

Johnny nudges him with his elbow. “Spill.”

Donghyuck sighs. letting his head droop down. He’s got a birthmark on the back of his neck, a light brown squiggly shape that rests on top of his first vertebrae. “Why do you care so much?”

Johnny hums. “It’s my job.”

There’s a beat of silence before Donghyuck speaks. “Right. A job.”

Johnny turns to look at him, and though he can’t see Donghyuck’s face, the tone of bitterness is palpable. “Donghyuck-”

Donghyuck gets up, moving to the back of the room, slinging his bag up. “Can you take me back home? I’m tired.”

Johnny closes his eyes in frustration. Every time he tries to get closer to Donghyuck, he fails. One wrong word means three steps in the wrong direction. It’s endlessly exhausting and Johnny doesn’t know how to fix it. “Yeah,” he sighs, getting up. “Sure.”

 

 

_Two Years Ago_

“Hyuck-ah,” Johnny slides his keycard into the hotel lock. “Come on, you’re going to be - oh.”

Donghyuck sits up in bed, clearly shirtless, as the other occupant squeaks and dives off the other end of the bed.

“Is this what you were doing when you told me you were getting ready?” Johnny demands, glaring at him.

“Relax, hyungie,” Donghyuck says, a sleazy grin stretched across his face. “We’ve still got time.”

“No, we don’t,” Johnny snaps, as Donghyuck leans over the other end and pokes the stranger. The stretch of his waist arches over the edge of his jeans and Johnny averts his eyes. “Who the hell is this?”

“Jeno, meet Johnny hyung,” Donghyuck says as the stranger clumsily gets up. “Johnny hyung, this is Jeno.” Johnny purses his lips. He recognizes the boy now, as he pulls on a shirt. Lee Jeno was part of a famous boy group, TripleJ, and Johnny had known Donghyuck was friends with them for a while. He just hadn’t figured it’d be this close.

“Out,” Johnny snaps. “I’ve got no time to deal with you right now.”

“It was - uh- really nice to meet you Seo-ssi, sorry about that.” Jeno bows hurriedly at him and darts out of the room, throwing Donghyuck a terrified look that Johnny catches.

“Aww, look at that, you scared him,” Donghyuck pouts as he clambers off the bed. “That wasn’t very nice, hyungie.”

“Up,” Johnny orders, hunting through Donghyuck’s suitcase trying to find a shirt of Donghyuck’s that isn’t crumpled. “You’ve got an interview in fifteen minutes and I’m going to murder you if you show up on camera with those hickies on your neck.”

Donghyuck casts a look down at his torso, littered in mouth shaped bruises, and groans. “I _told_ him to stay below the collar.”

“Oh, very responsible of you,” Johnny says sarcastically, tossing him a shirt. “Come on, you’ve got to get down to makeup.”

Donghyuck clings to him as they get into the elevator, wrapping his arms around one of Johnny’s arms and pouting up at him. “Don’t be mad, hyung. It was just a bit of fun.”

Johnny deliberately looks away. Donghyuck knows his strengths and he uses them well. “Why was he even here?”

“Oh, they’re also performing at the same festival,” Donghyuck says, clinging tighter. “Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad,” Johnny sighs gruffly just as the doors _ding_ open. “Come on.”

“You _sound_ mad.” Donghyuck lets go of his arm and prances in front of him to the conference room they’d scheduled for the interview. He turns to Johnny as he reaches the door, a sad look on his face, but Johnny knows not to be fooled. He’s proven right in the next second as Donghyuck’s expression melts away to arch an eyebrow at Johnny. “You can’t always chase away every boy I pull into bed, you know.”

“I can if they make you late for things,” Johnny grunts, reaching past him to twist the doorknob open.

Donghyuck’s hand closes around his and Johnny looks down to see a wide-eyed Donghyuck staring back at him. If it were any other person, Johnny’s sure Donghyuck would have gotten his way, would have waltzed into the interview twenty minutes late with a large grin and a bruise right under his jaw for the whole world to see. Luckily for him though, Johnny isn’t other people, and he can see the mischief edging into Donghyuck’s guise, the biggest sign that something was about to happen.

“Oh hyungie,” Donghyuck sighs, tiptoeing up to meet Johnny’s eyes. He doesn’t even come close, but it’s a cute effort and Johnny has to steel himself to not twitch. “If you’re so worried about time, why not just save everyone the trouble and be the one I pull into bed next time.” A smirk curls over his mouth as Donghyuck looks him up and down with the gaze he usually reserves to make pre-pubescent girls squeal over him while he gyrates on the stage, toeing the line right before public indecency. “Or you can do the pulling if you’d like.”

Johnny closes his eyes. Takes a breath. Tells himself that murder isn’t the most efficient option, not when they have an interview ten feet away on the other side of the door. When he opens his eyes, Donghyuck is still watching him, the smirk still plastered across his face, and Johnny sighs. “Get inside before I decide to leak the pictures from last weekend’s dermatology session, brat.”

Donghyuck pouts up at him and twists his hand, still over Johnny’s, to open the door. “You’re so mean to me, hyungie.”

“Oh,” Johnny murmurs, watching Donghyuck saunter up to the interviewer and shoot a charming smile. “You have _no_ idea.”

 

 

_Three Years and Three Months Ago_

Johnny’s office is on the floor above Donghyuck’s practice room, and usually, he lets Donghyuck do his own thing while Johnny works above because he’d learned the hard way that hovering over Donghyuck only made him more frustrated and in turn made Johnny more exasperated. So Johnny stayed here, in his office the size of his bathroom at home while a floor below him, Donghyuck practiced until his limbs fell off. It was a pattern that worked well for both of them - until today when Donghyuck comes crashing in through his office door, eyes wide and frantic.

“Hyung, get up, get up now.”

“What, why, what’s wrong?” Johnny asks frantically, grabbing for his phone, mind running at a thousand miles an hour. How quick could the police get here? What if the media had been alerted? Most importantly, what had Donghyuck done now?

Donghyuck’s hand attaches to his arm. “My mother is here.”

Johnny stares at him, mouth dropping open. “Is that all?” He sags against his desk. “Jesus, Hyuck, you scared the shit out of me.”

“No, that is not _all_ ,” Donghyuck says frantically. “Hyung, _please_ you have to know-”

The door pushes open for the second time that afternoon, and Johnny winces as Donghyuck’s nails dig into his arm, painful and biting. “Ah, Seo-ssi,” a pleasant voice comes. “It’s a pleasure to meet my son’s manager after so long.”

Donghyuck’s mother is tall. That’s the first thing Johnny notices. She’s taller than her son and dressed impeccably, in a bright red dress with red heels. Her painted lips stretch into a wide smile and Johnny gets the same sensation he does when he’s watching the Discovery Channel and a shark swims straight up to the camera, as if ready to pounce at him through the safety of his screen.

Johnny straightens, bowing. “The pleasure is all mine.” He doesn’t miss the way Donghyuck shifts as if trying to get behind him. Johnny plasters a smile on his face. “To what do I owe this meeting?”

Donghyuck’s mother steps further into the office, her eyes sweeping over Johnny’s cluttered desk, his posters, the large schedule tacked above his desk noting Donghyuck’s whole life, carefully organised by colour. “Oh, I always make it a point to visit Donghyuck’s new managers. He does go through _so_ many of them so quickly.”

The meeting with Donghyuck’s mother is, in a word, _painful_. In the span of a twenty minute conversation, she makes about a hundred digs at both Johnny’s work ethic and Donghyuck’s performance thus far and she makes it very clear that she doesn’t think Johnny is doing a good enough job to handle her son. Johnny smiles through all of them, keeping an iron grip on his pleasant manner.

“With all due respect,” Johnny says, ignoring the way Donghyuck is clinging to the back of his shirt, his hand clenching painfully tight. “I’m very good at my job, and I know-”

“Yes,” Donghyuck’s mother interrupts, examining her nails. “A manager who got kicked out his previous company for not only allowing a massive scandal to erupt between his charges, but also _encouraged_ it.”

“Mom, stop it.” Donghyuck speaks up for the first time. “I trust Johnny hyung. You don’t have to worry about him.”

“I’m more worried about _you_. You seems to be slacking after winning one award. Which you absolutely don’t deserve to be doing,” she says archly, raising an eyebrow at him and out of the corner of his eyes Johnny can see Donghyuck flinch. Something protective rears up in him and Johnny straightens. “Anyway, it was… _nice_ to meet you, Seo-ssi. We’re going out to lunch, Donghyuck. Let’s go.”

Donghyuck sighs and lets go of his hold on Johnny’s shirt. Johnny grabs his arm as his mother walks out the door. “Hyuck,” Johnny says quickly, not sure of what’s about to come out of his mouth because all he can think of is Donghyuck’s pale face and the way his hands had clung to the back of Johnny’s shirt. “I can make up an excuse, say you’ve got a schedule-”

“It’s fine, hyung,” Donghyuck doesn’t meet his eyes as he carefully tugs his hand out of Johnny’s hold. “I’ll see you in a couple hours.”

 

 

Johnny’s still in his office when Donghyuck gets back, three hours later.

There’s a quiet knock on the door and Johnny rolls across the floor on his chair to open the door, he sees Donghyuck slumped against the doorjamb, looking absolutely exhausted. “Oh my god.” Johnny jumps out of his chair. “Are you okay?”

Donghyuck waves his concern away, sinking into the other chair in Johnny’s office. “Stop being so dramatic, it’s just my mom. She’s not going to murder me or anything.”

“You looked terrified,” Johnny bites back, shutting the door behind him and swallowing any comments about Donghyuck’s mother and what she could potentially do. “I’m pretty sure I have scratches on my back from your nails.”

Donghyuck flushes but he slumps against the back of his chair and plays with a few stray paper clips on Johnny’s desk. “I just get tense around her,” he mumbles. “She expects a lot.”

“I could tell,” Johnny says tentatively. He’s not exactly sure how to navigate this situation, but he knows it has to be delicate. Donghyuck is hard to read and even harder to handle, and Johnny doesn’t want to screw this up. Somehow, Donghyuck has trusted him with his mother and Johnny needs to take that sliver of trust and run as far as he can with it before Donghyuck stops him. “What d- What can I do? Do you need anything?”

Donghyuck shrugs. “I could use some food.”

Johnny frowns. “Didn’t you just come from lunch?”

Donghyuck snorts. “It’s bold of you to assume that I ever _eat_ around my mother. She’d just point how the calories will go to my thighs or cheeks. I could be eating raw lettuce and she’d still disapprove.”

“That’s horrible,” Johnny blurts, shocked. He’s known strict dieting, has had to enforce a lot of it himself, but he can’t imagine how damaging it must have been to grow up around that, to hear it constantly.

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “Don’t start getting all misty eyed on me,” he stands. “I’m _fine._ Can we get food now?”

Johnny grabs his keys. “Yeah, come on,” he says, slipping off his work slippers and hunting for his shoes under the desk. “I’ll buy you the biggest fucking burger I can get my hands on. And then you can upload it to your SNS and drive your mother crazy.” He grins at Donghyuck who blinks in shock for a second before grinning back, eyes crinkling with the force of his smile.

“Wanna buy me some beer too?” Donghyuck prods cheekily as they walk down the hallway.

Johnny shoots him a glance, to find Donghyuck still grinning up at him, eyes shining in mischief. “Don’t push your luck, brat,” Johnny says, but something lightens in his chest, and he watches Donghyuck laugh as he skips forward. He’s getting somewhere. It’s painful and so tense, but it’s somewhere and for that moment, Johnny basks in his victory.

 

 

_One Year and Six Months Ago_

It’s going to rain.

Johnny stares up at the sky with a frown. The clouds have been steadily darkening for the last hour and the air smells like incoming rain. He purses his lips as the door of the van slides open and Donghyuck leaps out, pristine white sneakers landing in the mud and immediately getting ruined.

“It’s going to rain,” Donghyuck says gleefully, tipping his head up to the sky, matching Johnny’s posture.

“Yes,” Johnny agrees grouchily. “You’re going to be on that slippery stage for a twenty minute set. Who the hell thought of an uncovered stadium? It’s the World Cup stadium, can’t they shell out for a cover?”

“Stop being such a grumpy goose,” Donghyuck loops his arm through Johnny’s brightly and drags him to the changing rooms at the back of the stadium.

“It’s my job to do that,” Johnny grumbles, but he lets Donghyuck pull him along. “It’s _your_ job to be safe on that stage.”

“I always am,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes, waving at some idol who runs by. “It’s the Dream Concert, hyungie, lighten up. I get to meet my friends _and_ my fans and _you_ can meet all your tired manager friends and complain like you always do.”

“I have no friends,” Johnny says, squinting at the signs and tugging Donghyuck down the right hallway when he tries to lead them in the other direction. “I’m always stuck looking after your annoying ass.”

“Now is that anyway to talk to your idol, hyungie?” Donghyuck pouts up at him for a second before tossing his head and flicking his hair out of his eyes. It’s back to his favoured caramel now and Johnny has to admit that the tone more than suits him. He’d never say it to Donghyuck though; the ensuing crowing would be too much to handle. “Besides, I know that’s untrue. You were out with Jeonghwa and Yuta-ssi a month ago.”

Johnny hums, conceding. It had been a while since he’d seen them, but friendship, or any kind of life really, was hard to come by in his profession. He didn’t really feel the loss though, not as keenly as he once might have.

“This is it.” Johnny eyes the door with Donghyuck’s name on the sign before twisting the knob and pushing it open. The door opens to a world of chaos behind it and Johnny takes one look at Donghyuck’s fading grin before laughing and pushing him inside. “I’m going for a walk,” he says brightly. “I’ll be back in twenty.”

The last thing he sees is Donghyuck’s wide eyes staring pleadingly at him before the stylist gets him in her clutches and shoves him into a chair.

 

It starts raining as some new girl group gets on the stage, and Johnny winces, watching from the monitors in Donghyuck’s changing room as the rain drenches the stage, making several of the members trip, their stilettos skidding against the slick floors.

“Oh, it’s really coming down now,” the stylist hums, batting at Donghyuck’s hair. “Your hair is going to get ruined.”

“Looks like fun,” Donghyuck says brightly, fiddling with his mic pack. “I can’t wait.”

“You better be careful,” Johnny rounds on him. “You’ve got too many things coming up to get injured and I refuse to be carting around your dead weight for the next few months while you recover from a broken ankle.”

“It’s cute that you try to hide caring about me,” Donghyuck informs him. “You’re a terrible liar, hyungie.”

“Hyuck, I mean it,” Johnny insists. “Be careful out there.”

An aide pushes into the room, calling for Donghyuck to head up to the stage. Donghyuck brushes past Johnny to grab for his jacket and they both make their way backstage, weaving through the constrained chaos.

“I’ll be careful,” Donghyuck says as he’s sliding his in-ear in. “Stop worrying so much.”

“If only I could,” Johnny says darkly just as the group on stage finishes their set to thunderous screaming. “Okay, go slow, it doesn’t matter if you don’t dance at all, just focus on not-”

“I got it, hyung,” Donghyuck interrupts, looking up at him, an open, calm look on his face. “Take a breath. I’ll be fine.”

Johnny looks back down at him and then nods, hand coming up to pat his shoulder. He needs to trust in Donghyuck’s sense of self-preservation, if nothing else. “Go on,” he says, nodding at the stage. “You’re up.”

Donghyuck flashes him a bright grin, all of his previous excitement flooding back as if he’d only pushed it down to reassure Johnny - which was ridiculous, _Johnny_ was the adult here - and sprints up the stairs, followed by his herd of backup dancers to screams and applause that drowns the thunder ricocheting through the stadium.

The thing about being a manager is that Johnny never gets to stand in the crowd. He’s always relegated backstage, monitoring the performances through the screens and taking notes of what can be improved. He never gets to experience Donghyuck’s performance the way it should be experienced, in the middle of a frenzied crowd, watching Donghyuck do what he does best.

He’s going slow, for which Johnny is grateful for, taking breaks in the dances and singing more, winking at the camera as he does. In the first five minutes, his shirt gets completely soaked through and his hair is plastered to his forehead, and Johnny wishes with all his heart, his irrational, stupid heart, that he was out there, in the crowd, letting Donghyuck’s charisma swallow him whole.

Donghyuck finishes his set to thunderous applause and screams, the crowd waving their lightsticks in the air, creating a rainbow path for him to walk off to.

“Hyung!” Donghyuck calls, trampling down the stage stairs and Johnny turns away from the screen to move towards him. “Hyung, did you see, that was-” His sentence gets cut off with a yelp as his foot slips on the staircase and he trips forward. Johnny catches him, Donghyuck’s full weight slamming into him and Johnny wraps his arms around him, automatically lifting him off the stairs and setting him down on the ground. “Did you see?” Donghyuck gasps, not missing a beat, his hands still clenched tightly in Johnny’s shirt from when Johnny had caught him. He looks up at him, eyes shining and mouth stretched into a wide grin. “Hyung, that was the _best_ I’ve ever done.”

“It was,” Johnny agrees. He can feel Donghyuck’s clothes soaking into his, the damp chilling him to the bone but he can hardly feel it, not when Donghyuck is grinning up at him, pure happiness radiating from every pore, the adrenaline from the stage rocketing through him, making him shine brighter than he ever has. All in Johnny’s arms. It’s a strange feeling and Johnny pushes it away before it can take root too deeply into his heart. He smiles back down at Donghyuck. “You were _amazing_.”

Donghyuck laughs, throwing his arms around Johnny’s neck and tugging him into a hug, stretching up onto his toes. His wet hair presses against Johnny’s neck and Johnny closes his eyes. They’re backstage and there’s plenty of chaos around them, but not enough that someone won’t notice. He takes a breath, getting a full inhale of Donghyuck’s scent - a mix of his cologne and the rain - and then gently pulls away.

“I _was_ amazing,” Donghyuck agrees, sliding his arms down, off Johnny's body. “I was fucking great.”

Johnny steps back, putting space between them before noticing that Donghyuck’s shivering. “Come on,” he says, wrapping an arm around Donghyuck’s shoulder and tugging him away from the crowd. No matter how much he reminds himself, it’s always hard to stop touching Donghyuck. It’s dangerous - he’s going to get caught at some point. But for now, Johnny reels Donghyuck closer to him, letting him leech off his heat. “Let’s get you into some warm clothes.”

 

 

_Two Years and Seven Months Ago_

It’s a strange day. It’s one of those days where Donghyuck has no schedules and no practice to do, given that he only just finished his promotions - and thus, Johnny has nothing to do.

It’s a strange day. Johnny wakes up at ten am, for the first time in _months_ and watches the sun move across the sky from his bed, lazily flicking between random apps on his phone until his bladder protests too strongly to be ignored.

It’s a strange day. He moves sluggishly across his apartment, all the windows thrown open to the let the sunshine and the fresh wind in, and makes lunch. Eats food that doesn’t come from a plastic container in months and just - exists.

It’s a good day.

 

Sometime past three in the afternoon, Johnny’s curled up on his couch, watching the clouds pass by and eyes slipping shut under the heat blanketing him. Then there’s a knock on his front door and Johnny sits up, staring in confusion at it.

With the exception of the company and the HR representative who’d helped him fill out his forms, he doesn’t think anyone knows where he lives. Except for his mother, but she was thousands of miles away and hardly prone to dropping by her son’s house without at least a month’s prior notice.

His pajama bottoms drag against the floor as he walks to the front door to throw it open, expecting a delivery boy or some confused soul who’d gotten the wrong apartment number. Anyone but a red-eyed Donghyuck who blinks up at him, his hair and mask combination doing nothing to hide the tears still clinging to his lashes.

“Donghyuck?” He asks in utter confusion, staring down at him.

“I’m sorry,” Donghyuck starts, voice hoarse. “I know it’s your only day off in _forever_ but I just-I just-”

“Hey, hey,” Johnny murmurs, frowning, as he reaches out and gently pulls Donghyuck over the threshold. “Come on, come here.”

Donghyuck trips in past him, shoving off his shoes as Johnny leads him to the couch. “It’s stupid and I know I shouldn’t bother you-”

“I’ll decide that,” Johnny interrupts gently. “What happened?”

“I-” Donghyuck starts looking up at him, before averting his eyes, a flush crawling up his cheeks. “It’s just a bad day and I - I didn’t know where else to go.”

Johnny eyes him, worried. They don’t have problems with communication so much anymore and he likes to think Donghyuck more or less trusts him, but the lack of detail in his response is...worrying. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asks cautiously.

Donghyuck shakes his head, sitting down on the couch. Johnny hesitantly sits down next to him, some semblance of relief flooding through him when Donghyuck leans against him, pressing his face into the crook of Johnny’s neck. “It’s dumb. I don’t want to.”

“It’s not if it’s making you feel this way,” Johnny says quietly, but he picks up his remote and leans against the back of his couch. Donghyuck curls into him tighter, pressing his head against Johnny’s shoulder. “But that’s okay, we don’t have to talk.” He turns on the TV. “ _But_ in payment, you’re not allowed to judge me for my entertainment choices.”

Donghyuck huffs out a laugh as Return of the Superman comes on. “That’s fair,” he says, tucking his legs underneath him. After a while of silence, Donghyuck shifts against him. “Thanks, hyung,” he says quietly, the sound barely heard over the laughter from the TV.

The clouds shift outside, and sunlight comes pouring in, drenching the room in light and the curtains - cheap, delicate ones he’d copped from Daiso for a couple thousand won - flutter gently in the warm breeze. It’s a wonderful feeling and Johnny feels wretched that he can’t share his contentment with Donghyuck.

He nods instead, bringing his hand up to smooth down Donghyuck’s arm, rubbing as soothingly as possible. “Anytime, Donghyuck-ah.”

 

_Four Months Ago_

Jeonghwa slams her glass down on the table, nearly cracking it with the force. "The thing is, Youngho-ya," she slurs, blinking at Johnny. "Is that you've dedicated your whole life to this kid. You can't be surprised when you start to catch some feelings."

"I have no feelings," Johnny snaps, feeling a flush rise up his neck. Yuta snorts next to him. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Jeonghwa rolls her eyes, gesturing at Yuta to pour her more beer. He obeys, hiccuping a little. "Of course there's going to be feelings," she says, as if Johnny is stupid. "You've been with him for what - three years?"

"Four," Johnny murmurs and Jeonghwa nods.

"Most managers have gone through what you're going through, or something similar, anyway. Look at Yuta, a year into working for his kid and he's half in love with him."

"We're the same age," Yuta grumbles. "He's not a kid."

"I didn't notice you quibbling the 'love bit'," Jeonghwa says knowingly. "And even if I don't want to fuck Solji, doesn't mean I wouldn't kill for her." She shrugs and Johnny watches her throw back her beer, guzzling it down like a motor, mildly impressed. "It comes with the territory. All that time together manifests into strong feelings, whatever types of feelings those might be. You just have to accept it and stop letting it eat at you like this. It’s just going to destroy _you_."

"I feel horrible," Johnny mumbles, staring down at his still half full glass. He can't hold his liquor anywhere near as well as Jeonghwa can, but he's certainly not as bad as Yuta, already half gone into a bottle. But the grip of alcohol is slowly creeping over him now and he can't distinguish between the heat of the restaurant and the blush on his cheeks. "I'm meant to - I don't know - protect him? Be there for him? And all I can think about is how-" he chokes on his next words. _How nice it would be to just kiss him._ He thinks of Donghyuck’s wide eyes looking up at him, mouth twisted into an attractive pout that almost definitely means he’s about to get his way. He thinks of all the time, the months, the _years_ , spent together and wonders how he went from wanting Donghyuck to just smile at him once to wanting him to never stop smiling. He thinks of the promise he’d made Donghyuck, all those years ago, and wonders when he became so twisted. "I'm a monster."

"You're a drama queen, is what you are," Jeonghwa says, all the previous levity gone from her tone, and her voice is deadly serious. Johnny looks up to meet her gaze. "It's not a bad thing unless you force it upon him. And you're not going to do that because you're not an asshole. So stop feeling so awful over it and do something to get over it."

"Do what?" Johnny asks, a little desperate. Because as bad as it sounds, he can't get Donghyuck out of his head.

"That guy's been glancing over at you for the last thirty minutes," Yuta breaks in, gesturing his glass at the opposite end of the bar. "Go fuck him."

"I am not going to do that," Johnny exclaims, blushing harder.

"No, no, that's a good idea," Jeonghwa says, narrowing her at eyes at Johnny. "It's the wisest saying in the world Youngho-ya: to get over someone, get under someone else." She eyes him consideringly. “Though I’d be surprised if you get _under_ someone.”

Yuta giggles, hiccuping. “Youngho’s very versatile,” he says knowingly, before perking up. "Oh look, he's coming over," He hiccups again, sloshing his beer all over his hand. "Yay."

Johnny hurriedly pushes back his hair, trying to think of the nicest way to let someone down when he hasn't talked to another human being that isn't Donghyuck or the pair of drunkards next to him in months.

He looks up just in time to choke on his own spit, because coming at him, with a sheepish smile decorating his absurdly handsome face, is the current king of ballads, the top played artist in his phone, Kim Doyoung.

"Hello," Kim Doyoung says, pulling his sweater sleeves over his hands nervously. “I um- I don't do things like this, usually, but I noticed you a while ago and I was wondering if I could buy you a drink?"

"You're Kim Doyoung," Johnny blurts, staring up at him, completely frozen in his shock.

Doyoung laughs a little, fidgeting with his sleeve. "Yes, that I am."

"Why would Kim Doyoung want to buy me a drink?" Johnny asks Jeonghwa in confusion.

"Because he thinks you're very handsome," Doyoung says, a note of laughter in his voice. "Does that mean you're interested?"

"He's interested," Yuta interrupts, shoving Johnny out of the booth. Johnny trips and just manages to catch himself before he slams his face into Doyoung's -incredible - chest.

"Um, yes," Johnny says, flustered. "Yes I am."

"Great," Doyoung says, a smile curving its way up, his eyes crinkling prettily and Johnny stares, more than a little awestruck. "It's very nice to meet you-?"

"Youngho," Johnny says, holding out his hand, feeling like he's just been hit over the head with a wrecking ball. "My name's Youngho."

 

"I really, really don't do things like this," Doyoung says shyly, as they settle into a booth at the edge of the restaurant. From behind his head, Johnny can see Jeonghwa and Yuta peeking around the edge of their booth to catch a glimpse. When she meets his gaze, Jeonghwa widens her eyes at Johnny and says something that Johnny doesn't quite make out. The high laugh Yuta lets out however, leads Johnny to believe he really doesn't want to.

"I'd have said yes even if you did," Johnny says, feeling some of his confidence return. This is easy, he can do this. This is just flirting, he's good at this. Or, at least, he used to be. "I'm a very big fan of yours."

Doyoung's smile widens and he lets out a laugh, some of the tension flooding away from shoulders. "Thank you," he takes a sip. "It's been two years since I debuted but I still get... surprised when people recognise me."

"Your face makes it very hard for people to forget you," Johnny says, letting a flirty edge slip into his tone and judging by the way Doyoung's eyes darken a little, he hears it. "To say nothing of your voice."

 

He doesn't know how long they sit there talking, but it's a surprise when Yuta pokes his head around the booth, nearly knocking into the back of Doyoung's head.

"Youngho-ya," Yuta slurs. "We're leaving, it's - _hic-_ two in the morning and I've got to get Yongie out of bed in three hours."

Johnny blinks in surprise, rolling up his sleeve to glance at his watch. It's a pretty silver thing that Donghyuck had pressed into his hands on his birthday last year before promptly sprinting away, yelling happy birthday at Johnny as he left. "I didn't even notice," he says in shock, sliding his phone out of his pocket to check if he'd had any missed calls. Other than a link to some video from Donghyuck, there was nothing. How had he let two whole hours slip by just talking to someone?

"Oh, I'm going to get murdered," Doyoung groans, scrolling through his own phone while Yuta hiccups again, swaying on the spot. "I promised I'd be home by midnight." He looks up at Johnny with a sheepish smile. "I'm so sorry to rush off like this, but my manager has called me like twenty times and I need to get back to her before she blows a gasket."

"Of course," Johnny says, sliding out the booth as Doyoung does the same, grabbing his jacket. "It was -" he shoots a cautious look at Yuta who's slid onto Doyoung's empty seat, half asleep in the booth. "It was great to meet you."

"You too," Doyoung says, looking up Johnny with bright eyes. "I'd love to do it again."

"I'd- I’d like that too," Johnny stutters, feeling some of his previous nervousness return. Doyoung hands him his phone and Johnny hastily puts in his number, his hands suddenly shaking a little.

Doyoung's fingers brush against his when he takes his phone back and Johnny jumps a little, not expecting it. "Goodnight, Youngho," he says sweetly. "It was a pleasure."

And with that _Kim fucking Doyoung_ turns around and leaves. Johnny stares at his back, frozen for a second, before turning to tackle a now unconscious Yuta. Kim Doyoung. He'd just spent two hours talking to, _flirting_ with, Kim Doyoung.

What the fuck had just happened to his life?

 

 

_Two Weeks Ago_

The day they go to Inkigayo is always a stressful day. There's something about those halls, the staff, the _MC’s_ that sets Donghyuck, and by default, sets Johnny _,_ on edge.

Johnny lets Donghyuck be as bratty as he wants on those days, gives into all his wants and needs because there's something that curdles in his stomach when he sees Donghyuck tense as soon as they enter the building.

Currently, Donghyuck is trying to scam his way into several strawberry milks at the vending machine and Johnny's holding his wallet just out of reach, trying not to look directly at Donghyuck's pleading eyes.

"I'm not buying you anymore," Johnny exclaims, leaning against the vending machine to stop Donghyuck from buying any more milk. "You've already had three today!"

"You told me I could have whatever drinks I wanted," Donghyuck pouts. "And I forgot my wallet today."

"You forget your wallet _everyday-_ "

"Youngho?"

Johnny jumps a little, his hand dropping back down to his side, and looks over Donghyuck's head. Doyoung's standing there, an amused look on his face.

"Doyoung," Johnny asks, blinking in confusion. "What are you doing here? I didn't know you were promoting?" He can see vaguely, out of the corner of his eye, Donghyuck step back, watching him, a little frown scrunching it’s way across his face.

"It's a special stage," Doyoung dismisses, waving his hand. "I don't have an album out, don't worry."

"Please," Johnny sniffs. "I wouldn't need you to tell me when your album is coming, I'm almost a level five member of your fancafe."

That startles a laugh out of Doyoung and Johnny grins, pleased. "Are you really?"

"No," Johnny says, cheerfully. "But you almost believed it."

"Regardless," Doyoung smiles. "I just wanted to say, I enjoyed our dinner from a few weeks ago and, as wretchedly pathetic as this makes me seem, I was wondering if there could be a repeat?"

"I was going to text you," Johnny apologises, fishing out his phone to look despairingly over his packed schedule. "I really - I liked it too. A lot. I've just been - busy."

Doyoung eyes him, a little light coming into his gaze. "You're forgiven," he says easily. "So-"

"I'm not free till two weeks from this Saturday," Johnny says, hoping his regret comes through in his tone.

Doyoung considers this. "You're lucky I like you, Seo Youngho," he says playfully and Johnny laughs, relieved.

"Yes, I am," he agrees, grinning.

"Aren't you going to introduce us, hyungie?" Donghyuck's voice cuts through the fog in Johnny's brain - the one that seems to form only when he's around Doyoung - and Johnny looks over at him to find Donghyuck leaning against the glass door to the vending machine, eyes narrowed in Doyoung's direction.

"Do you even need an introduction?" Johnny shoots back on autopilot.

"It's still polite," Donghyuck says, not missing a beat, not looking away from Doyoung for a second.

"Uh-"

"Kim Doyoung," Doyoung says pleasantly, and when Johnny sees his amusement grow a little sarcastic as he bows to a clearly younger Donghyuck. "And you are...?"

Donghyuck's jaw clenches for a second before he wipes it away with a venomous smile. “For the sake of your pride, I'll assume you don't know who I am,” he says archly. “But I'm sure _Johnny_ hyung will be able to fill you in later.” And with that, he drops into a short bow before turning on his heel and walking away.

Johnny turns back to Doyoung, pressing his lips together. “I’m sorry about him,” he says, running his hand through his hair, nervously. “He doesn’t like this pl- he’s just not having a good day.”

Doyoung shrugs. “It’s not a problem, although I am a little surprised the rumours are true.”

Johnny winces. He knows all the rumours surrounding Donghyuck; for every glowing media article there is about him, another three ugly ones spring up in its place. And Donghyuck’s behaviour during his early years did nothing to dispel the image that had grown up around him. He’d been smart, had a tongue he used like a whip, and was cocky - and rightly so. But it had rubbed some the wrong way, and no matter how much Donghyuck tried to fix it now, the perception had stuck. “They’re not,” he says quietly, casting a glance down the hallway as if trying to find a long gone Donghyuck. “He’s just - I don’t know - having a bad day. I’m sorry he took it out on you.”

Doyoung shrugs. “He doesn’t bother me,” he says, shoving his hands in his pant pockets and smiling up at Johnny, gummy and wide that is far too endearing for Johnny not to grin helplessly back at, his previous consternation over Donghyuck’s behaviour melting away. “What I _am_ wondering about is two weeks from this Saturday.”

“Dinner?” Johnny asks hopefully. “I know this great little bistro by the company, they’ve got great food.”

“Sounds good,” Doyoung says, and steps forward to brush his hand over Johnny’s arm, fast enough that no one would notice but enough that Johnny can feel the warmth of his hand burn through his shirt sleeve. “But I must warn you,” he steps back and sweeps his gaze up Johnny’s figure, smile growing sharper and more mischievous. “I’m not going for the food.”

And as he walks away, sharp grin burned into the forefront of Johnny’s mind, all Johnny can think about is how similar that smile is to Donghyuck’s.

 

 

_Ten Months Ago_

“Hyung,” Donghyuck prods, leaning over to lower Johnny’s music. Johnny _tsks_ as the volume goes down, annoyed at having his favourite part in Kim Doyoung’s latest ballad taken away from him. “Oh, hush,” Donghyuck says, leaning back in his seat. “Don’t go getting all annoyed at me, you’ve listened to that song at least twenty times _today_.”

“And I can listen to it twenty times more if I want,” Johnny snipes, flicking the sound back up, but keeping it low enough that they can have a conversation. “It’s a good song.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Donghyuck sighs. “Anyway, I have a request.”

“Hmm?”

“We don’t have any more schedules today, do we?”

“Not that I know of,” Johnny says wryly, glancing over his shoulder as he merges lanes. “Why? What do you want?”

“Well,” Donghyuck draws out slowly, licking his lips. “I know you wanted a free afternoon, but I promised Renjun I’d try to make it to his filming today. It’s his first day of this drama and he’s nervous.”

Johnny squints at him, trying to inject all his suspicion into that one second before he has to look back at the road. Donghyuck has too many boys around him and he’s far too friendly with all of them, and Johnny tells himself that his line of questioning is purely for media control purposes. Nothing else. “Which one is he? The squirrely one? Or the flirty one?”

“Neither,” Donghyuck laughs. “He’s not a singer, he’s an actor. We only just started talking a couple months ago. Can we go?”

“Where is it?” Johnny sighs, already in defeat. It’s not like he had any plans anyway, and he’s always been rather weak to that special branded Lee Donghyuck smile.

“Close by.” Donghyuck waves his phone’s map at Johnny who takes it, glancing down at the screen while trying to concentrate on the traffic ahead. Donghyuck makes an irritated noise and snatches his phone back. “Concentrate on driving,” he says, leaning his seat back and kicking socked feet up onto the dash. “I’ll steer you the right way, hyungie.”

“The last time I trusted you with the maps, we ended up an hour in the wrong direction from Busan,” Johnny snipes.

“I think I can handle a twenty minute ride,” Donghyuck says. And when Johnny opens his mouth to tease him more, Donghyuck shushes him and turns the music up louder. “Hush and listen to your song.”

Johnny lets a grin spread across his face, and without looking, he can hear the smile in Donghyuck’s voice as he harmonises with the song playing, his voice kicking up over the melody, a sweet tune acting as their little soundtrack in the sunny afternoon.

 

Donghyuck has two types of friends; the kind he can coddle and the kind he can argue endlessly with. Huang Renjun seems to fit entirely in the latter category, his tiny stature doing nothing to contain the fire in his eyes as he talks with Donghyuck, the two of them huddled under one umbrella to protect from the harsh sun.

Johnny eyes them for a second, pursing his lips, and goes over the checklist in his head of Reasons Why He Can’t Wine and Dine Donghyuck for the hundredth time. He sighs, knocking his sunglasses back on over his eyes and crosses over to Donghyuck. “I’m going to that cafe across the street,” he says. “Call me when you want to leave?”

Donghyuck agrees, looking up to him and holding up his hand to shield from the sun’s glare. Johnny moves in front of him so his shadow covers Donghyuck’s face, and Donghyuck drops his hand, a grateful expression shooting across his face. “Junnie’s almost done shooting,” he says. “You can leave, if you want. We’ll probably go out to dinner later.”

“You sure?” Johnny asks, mentally running over Donghyuck’s schedule for the next day in his head. He’s got nothing except an interview, in the early afternoon.

“Yes,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “I think I can manage one night out with a friend without you hovering over me.” Renjun snorts and Johnny jerks, having forgotten he was standing right next to them.

“Do not get messy drunk,” Johnny warns. “I’m not covering for your ass if you end up on Naver’s front page again.”

“Taeil still yelled at me for that,” Donghyuck mumbles sullenly.

“You probably deserved it,” Renjun hums. “You’re kind of an idiot.”

“I am _not_!” Donghyuck protests turning to him. “I’m an intellectual creature.”

“Sure,” Renjun agrees. “That’s totally why I had to take your phone away last weekend when you-”

“Anyway,” Donghyuck interrupts forcefully, his cheeks flaring a pretty pink and Johnny raises an eyebrow, interested. It was rare to see Donghyuck flustered. “Hyung was leaving?”

“Yeah,” Johnny agrees, stepping away and ruffling Donghyuck’s hair gently. “Make sure you get home, okay? You’ve got interviews tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Donghyuck waves him away. “Go have some fun, hyungie. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As Johnny walks away he hears Renjun ask incredulously _“Hyungie?”_ and grins to himself when Donghyuck hisses at him to shut up.

 

Johnny doesn’t know why he hadn’t just waited till the next morning to drop off the interview prep. He figures Donghyuck won’t be back till later in the nighttime and his house is on the way to Johnny’s anyway.

Johnny slips into Donghyuck’s apartment, toeing off his shoes as the keypad beeps behind him as it locks again. The whole apartment is dark, and Johnny drops the prep material on the kitchen counter before he makes to leave. But before he can, the coffee maker catches his eye, and Johnny debates the merits of making himself a cup of coffee at this time of night. He takes a step towards the machine and then promptly freezes in place when a high moan cuts through the apartment, followed by muffled voices.

“Oh my god,” Johnny hisses, staring wide eyed at the silver chrome of the coffee machine before turning on his heel and hurrying towards the door. “Oh my god, oh my god, _oh my god_.”

There’s a loud thump as Johnny toes his shoes back on, and then a noise that sounds like a cut off whine echoes through the room. Johnny cringes and slams the door shut hurriedly behind him, wincing as the noise reverberates loudly. He heaves a huge sigh, leaning back against the door, his head thumping against the wood.

There’s something hot and sharp curling through his stomach and Johnny takes another breath, scrubbing his hands over his face. He can’t think about this anymore. He’s got a job to do. Johnny pushes off the door and walks down the hallway, trying not to think of what he’s walking away from.

He really should have waited until the next morning.

 

 

“You’re very quiet,” Johnny says the next day. They’re at the company, waiting for the interview to begin.

Donghyuck hums, narrowing his eyes at him. “I’ve been thinking.”

“You know what I say about you doing that,” Johnny says, trying for a laugh. He hasn’t managed to look Donghyuck in the eye since the day began and he’s pretty sure he’s not being subtle about it.

“It’s interesting,” Donghyuck hums, craning his head to look at Johnny’s face. “The prep stuff was on my table.”

Johnny stares straight ahead, willing himself not to blush. “I came early in the morning. You were still asleep.”

“Really?” Donghyuck asks, and makes an annoyed noise when Johnny doesn’t look at him, getting up from his seat to stand in front of Johnny. “You dropped off the stuff and then went _back_ to your place?”

“Yep,” Johnny says, forcing himself to meet Donghyuck’s knowing eyes. “That’s what happened.”

Donghyuck lets out a huff. “Hyung.” He prods Johnny’s shoe with his foot. “I heard the door slam. I know you were there last night.”

Johnny feels himself deflate like a sad souffle, all the fight leaving him. He doesn’t have the energy to keep denying what he and Donghyuck both already know, not when he doesn’t have coffee in his system, and not when Donghyuck keeps looking at him with those stupidly big eyes. “You seemed like you were busy,” he mutters.

Donghyuck snickers, dropping back into his seat. “Yeah,” he says a little dreamily. “We were busy, all right.”

Johnny forces the grimace back and studies the floor, ignoring the sharp slice of pain that rips through his chest for a second. He doesn’t have the right to feel… anything about this. He doesn’t.

The door opens and the reporter rushes through, looking thoroughly ruffled and apologetic. “I’m so sorry,” he says hurriedly. “Haechan-ssi, just give me a couple minutes to get set up, where can I…?”

“Through there,” Johnny says, getting up and gesturing to the door. He’s got a job to do, and there’s nothing in the description that allows him to get feelings _for_ his job. Johnny pushes everything deep, deep down and tries not to remember the way Donghyuck’s voice had sounded ripping through a high moan.

 

 

_Two Years and Eleven Months Ago_

Johnny doesn’t understand why Donghyuck hates Inkigayo with all his heart. He knows that Donghyuck takes twice as long getting ready in the morning, stalling for some reason, he knows that Donghyuck tenses up as soon as they enter the building, he _knows_ that Donghyuck avoids leaving the changing room unless he goes out to perform. But he doesn’t know why.

Until Donghyuck tells him.

“We were supposed to debut together.”

Johnny looks up from his tablet where he’d been going over Donghyuck’s schedule for the next week (and maybe doing a little online shopping for those nice cameras he’d spotted last week). Donghyuck’s staring at the TV that’s lofted above the makeup chairs. It’s a strange little moment where the stylists had all gone out for a break and the rest of the staff had disappeared.

“What?” Johnny asks, mind racing to catch up to the conversation.

Donghyuck jerks his chin at the TV where two celebrities with brightly coloured outfits are waving around mics with their names on them. “Mark. Mark Lee. We were supposed to debut together.”

Johnny looks up at the TV. Mark Lee has inky black hair and bright eyes and doesn’t at all look like someone who’s causing Donghyuck to sound as flat and dead as he does right now. “I didn’t know that,” he admits quietly, locking the tablet and crossing over to the makeup chair where Donghyuck’s situated.

“We trained together for years,” Donghyuck says, eyes still fixed on the screen. “Almost four years, I think. We were supposed to debut together.”

Johnny watches him in the mirror, studying his face. Donghyuck doesn’t look at him. “And what happened?”

“We had an argument.” Donghyuck snorts, looking down at his hands. “A _big_ argument. So big it derailed our career. It - it was awful.” He shrugs. “And he left.”

“The company?”

Donghyuck shrugs again, a little listless. “The company, me, everything. Left and never once looked back.”

Johnny takes a breath, understanding shooting through him. “That’s why you hate this place, right?”

“I don’t hate this place,” Donghyuck starts, but Johnny snorts.

“Don’t try that with me, I know how you act. I could tell there was a reason you hated this place.”

Donghyuck sighs, looking back up at the screen. “He left. And I was left alone. To debut _alone_. To go through it all _alone_.” He sounds like he doesn’t even realise what he’s saying, just spewing out his thoughts, so resigned and hurt, on the pristine makeup table for Johnny to wade through, to carefully dissect and decide what to attack for first. “Everyone leaves me at some point; my managers cycle through like a carousel, my friends, my mom-”

“ _I_ won’t,” Johnny interrupts, because he can’t be silent any longer. He can’t take the resigned look on Donghyuck’s face any longer. “I won’t leave you. I’m not going to leave you. I promise.”

For the first time, Donghyuck meets Johnny’s eyes. “You can’t promise that, hyung,” he says quietly, and Johnny sees him as he truly is in that moment. Someone who’s a little broken down by the path he’s chosen, who’s tired and resigned to his fate. “Everyone leaves. You’re not any different. You’ve got your own life and at some point, you’ll want to focus on it more.” He smiles, a bitter quirk of his lips. “And I won’t blame you for it when you do, but you _will_ leave. You can’t promise me you won’t.”

Johnny looks at Donghyuck, really looks at him and then makes a decision, tentatively resting his hand on Donghyuck’s shoulder. “You’re right,” he says quietly. “I don’t know what the future will bring and I sure as hell can’t predict what’s going to happen, but I can and I _will_ promise you that I won’t leave you alone.” He leans forward intently. “I promise you, Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck stares back at him, his bitter smile slowly melting into something more sincere and warm. “Thanks, hyung,” he murmurs, leaning his head against Johnny’s arm. He doesn’t sound like he believes Johnny though and Johnny tells himself that no matter what he’s been in the past, no matter how many promises he’s broken before, this is one promise he’s never going to break.

Behind them, the TV drones on.

 

_One Year Ago_

Johnny’s not ashamed about going to bed early. He’s not ashamed to admit that there’s a faint thrill in his heart when he curls up under his blanket, ready to drift off to that wonderous dreamland. He _is_ ashamed to admit he lets out a loud groan when his phone starts ringing at midnight, just before he’s about to fall asleep.

“What?” Johnny growls, eyes still closed. “What the _fuck_ could you possibly be calling me about right now?”

“Um - Seo-ssi?” A tentative voice comes through. “This is Jeno - Lee Jeno.”

Johnny frowns, pulling the phone away from his ear to glower at his screen. Donghyuck’s name shines back at him. “Why do you have Donghyuck’s phone?” Johnny demands, putting the phone back to his ear.

“That- that’s why I was calling,” Jeno stutters. “Um- I think maybe you should come get Donghyuck. We’re at a club-”

“A club?” Johnny demands, sitting up in bed. “He’s got a filming all day tomorrow, what the hell is he doing at a club?”

“That’s probably why you should come get him,” Jeno says, raising his voice over the din in the background. “He’s had um- quite a bit to drink and he won’t listen to us.”

Johnny groans, swinging his legs off the bed. “I’m on my way. Do _not_ let him get any drunker.”

 

It’s loud and dark when Johnny steps into the club, and he winces, running a hand through his hair. Jeno had texted him that they were on the second floor, so that’s where Johnny makes his way to, glowering down at anyone who gets in his way.

Donghyuck’s sitting on a boy’s lap, giggling madly about something when Johnny finds him. Jeno’s sitting next to him, a worried look on his face that only sharpens when he sees Johnny.

“Lee Donghyuck,” Johnny bites out, shoving his hands in his pockets. “What in the _eternal fuck_ are you doing?”

Donghyuck spins to look at him, almost falling of the pink haired boy’s lap. “Hyungie!” He cries, delighted. “Nana, look, Johnny hyung’s here.”

“Yeah I can see that, Hyuck,” ‘Nana’ says warily, flinching back when Johnny narrows his eyes at him.

“Get up,” Johnny barks irritably, gesturing at him. “Come on, you’ve got filming all day tomorrow, what the hell are you doing here?”

Donghyuck sighs, leaning back into Nana’s arms and Johnny violently represses the sudden urge to break something. “I just wanted to have some fun. Stop being such a grumpy goose, hyungie.”

“Maybe you should go, Donghyuck,” Jeno says uneasily, widening his eyes. “He’s- he’s starting to look a little scary.”

Johnny snorts to himself, a little pleased when Nana flinches back when their eyes meet. Donghyuck heaves another sigh and then bounces up, almost tripping over one of the table legs as he bounds over to Johnny. Johnny’s hands shoot out to steady him before he can fall flat on his face on the disgusting floor of the club. “What are you guys so scared for?” Donghyuck asks, leaning into Johnny’s hold and grinning up at him. Johnny can feel his hands clench around Donghyuck’s waist for a brief second before he forces himself to let go. “He’s just a big teddy bear, absolutely un- _hic_ -intimidating.”

“Yeah, I don’t know about that,” Nana mutters, and Donghyuck laughs, stretching up onto his tiptoes to pinch Johnny’s cheeks, swaying a little on the spot as he does so.

“I do know,” Donghyuck sings, still grinning at Johnny who glowers back down at him, completely unamused. His hands slide down Johnny’s cheeks, cupping them in his palms and Johnny tries his best not to flush.

“We’re going home,” he snaps instead, but gently tugs his face away from Donghyuck’s hold. “Come on.”

“Okay,” Donghyuck agrees obediently, turning around to sing goodbyes at his friends before allowing Johnny to haul him out of the club. Johnny wraps his arm around Donghyuck’s waist, balancing him, and doesn’t let himself think about the way his hold tightens when strangers brush too close.

 

“Were you sleeping?” Donghyuck asks, skipping a little down the road as Johnny walks them back to his car.

“Why would you think that?” Johnny grumbles, grabbing his wrist and hauling him back before Donghyuck runs into a pole.

“Your hair,” Donghyuck giggles, turning around fast enough to slam into Johnny’s chest. He raises his hands to run his fingers through Johnny’s hair. “You’ve got bedhead.” Johnny lets him continue his ministrations for a second and almost leans into it. It’s a soothing feeling, Donghyuck running his hands through his hair, carefully, not tugging at any tangles. Besides, Donghyuck’s delight is far too pretty to smash into pieces right now. And it’s not as if there’s anyone around to disapprove.

“What were you doing out so late?” Johnny asks, finally pulling away and leading Donghyuck back down the street. The car chirps as he unlocks it. “You _know_ you’ve got filming tomorrow.”

Donghyuck sighs. “I just wanted to get drunk and make out with someone. Have a little fun.”

“And you can do all that when you don’t have shows booked back to back tomorrow,” Johnny reminds him.

“I can’t do that _any_ time,” Donghyuck says, leaning against the car door when Johnny tries to open it to usher him in and tipping his head up to meet Johnny’s gaze. “I can’t ever get drunk in public and act like a normal twenty two year old.” A car alarm sounds somewhere in the distance but Johnny can’t seem to look away.

Johnny gazes back down at him and sighs. “No,” he says. He likes reminding Donghyuck of these things about as much as Donghyuck likes hearing them, but it has to be said. He’s the adult here - the one in charge. He’s the one that has to make the hard decisions, and has to lay down the law when neither of them end up liking it. “No, you can’t. But Donghyuck-ah, you chose this life. And this is the territory that comes with it.”

Donghyuck pouts, deflating. “I know. All I wanted was a kiss. It’s been so long since I kissed someone.” He stares down at the ground, and Johnny tilts his head down to follow his gaze; Johnny’s shoes are old, battered sneakers, with dirty laces intertwined with Donghyuck’s pristine leather loafers. Donghyuck looks back up, blinking wide eyes at Johnny, then brightens instantly, perking up. “ _You_ should give me a kiss.” He proclaims sunnily, eyes sparkling in the low light.

Johnny stares. “I- what?”

Donghyuck’s hands latch onto Johnny’s coat, tugging him closer, and Johnny’s hand slam against the car, bracing himself against the cold metal behind Donghyuck’s head before they can crush against each other. They’re too close; far, far too close. His heart rate speeds up when Donghyuck grins up at him. “Kiss me,” Donghyuck presses sweetly, so lovely and so, _so_ tempting. “Then _I_ won’t get in trouble and _you_ won’t be mad. And I get what I want.”

“You get what you want all the time,” Johnny sighs wearily, trying to pull back a little, but Donghyuck’s hands are an iron grip, holding him close, a comma curved over the length of Donghyuck’s body. Johnny tries not to shudder at their proximity.

“Because you give it to me,” Donghyuck whines, pressing closer when Johnny won’t let him reel him in closer. “Give me this one too.”

Johnny stares down at him, and hates himself down to his bones when a flash of temptation strikes through him. He could do it. He could kiss him and then blame it all on the alcohol tomorrow, blame it on Donghyuck being too demanding, being too... _himself_ that Johnny couldn’t even resist. He could do it. He could-

Johnny steps back, gently dislodging Donghyuck’s hands. “I’m not doing anything except getting you into bed with some water and some pain pills so you can suffer through fourteen hours of filming tomorrow.”

“Hyung,” Donghyuck whines but Johnny shakes his head.

“No, Donghyuck.” He can see it when his tone registers in Donghyuck’s fuzzy mind and Donghyuck pouts again, all the energy draining out of him. “Come on, get in the car. I’m taking you home.”

 

The self loathing wells up him when Donghyuck passes out in the seat next to him, so open and trusting of Johnny. So at ease around him. Johnny takes a breath and tries not let his self hatred choke him as it rises up his throat.

“God,” Johnny breathes, staring out at the road, the orange of the streetlights flashing over his hands clenched on the steering wheel. He takes a deep breath, and tries to stay calm. _God, I’m so screwed._

 

 

_Seven Months Ago_

Johnny would have never let the words slip from his mouth if it hadn’t been in the privacy of his apartment, if it hadn’t been for the power of alcohol loosening his tongue, if it hadn’t been for the blanket of Jeonghwa and Yuta’s unwavering trust covering him like a blanket, making him feel safe enough to utter those words out loud.

“I think I’m in love with Donghyuck,” Johnny says, staring at the brightly coloured chips packets scattered over his table.

Yuta lets out a surprised noise and props himself up on his elbow to peek his head over the edge of the table.

“Isn’t that your-” Jeonghwa asks from where she’s laying on Johnny’s couch, flat on her back.

“Yeah,” Johnny sighs, leaning against the couch. “Yeah, he’s...that.”

“Can you please elaborate?” Yuta asks, clumsily sitting up and grabbing at a half-open bag of chips. “I think I need you to elaborate.”

“I don’t know _how_ to elaborate,” Johnny groans, thumping his head against the couch, wincing when the back of his head meets the sharp edge of Jeonghwa’s hip bone. His head spins from the beers he’s consumed and he closes his eyes. “It’s been _months_ and it hasn’t gone away. And I don’t know what else to do.”

Jeonghwa hums. “That’s interesting,” she says and then abruptly sits up, dislodging Johnny’s head. “ _I_ know what to do.”

“Do you?” Johnny asks desperately as Jeonghwa joins him on the floor, tucking her legs under her.

“Yeah,” Jeonghwa nods her decisively before handing Johnny a new can. “We’re going to drink our problems away.”

Johnny stares at her as Yuta starts giggling, cracking open his own can. “Yeah,” Johnny nods, dumbly. “Yeah that works. Let’s drink.”

“Fantastic,” Jeonghwa says and knocks their cans together.

 

 

Johnny wakes up to a loud knock at his front door. He peels his face off his couch, groaning when the leather tugs against his skin. There’s another series of knocks, and it feels like every single of them are hammers slamming into the forefront of Johny’s mind.

“Hyung!” Donghyuck calls through the door. “Open up! I know you’re here, I can smell the hangover and air of general despair all the way from here!”

Johnny lets out a broken groan and rolls off the couch onto the floor, crushing several empty beer cans under his body as he does so. He raises himself to his feet, every muscle in his body protesting at the movement.

“Stop yelling,” he mumbles, unlocking the door. “My head is killing me.”

“I called your name seven times before you woke up,” Donghyuck informs him, matter of factly, brushing past him.

“What are you doing here, Donghyuck?” Johnny asks in exhaustion. “It’s your day off - it’s _my_ day off.”

Donghyuck turns to look at him, leaning against Johnny’s kitchen counter, arching an eyebrow. “You drink a lot, hyungie?”

Johnny sighs, leaning against his door, fighting his roiling stomach down. “Hyuck, I don’t have the energy for this. Why are you here?”

Donghyuck surveys him from top to bottom, lips pursed, as he takes in Johnny’s bedraggled appearance. “Go shower.” Is all he says, before turning to open Johnny’s refrigerator. “You stink to high heaven.”

Johnny stares at him a little longer, but Donghyuck remains determinedly emptying his fridge, taking out eggs and various other items, not even glancing Johnny’s way. With a large sigh, Johnny trudges to his bedroom, his headache intensifying with every step. He doesn’t want Donghyuck in his apartment, especially with him looking so bright and _handsome_ in the morning light, _especially_ when Johnny’d had a… small breakdown over him last night.

Coming out of the shower, Johnny finally feels marginally human. Donghyuck is cooking something that smells delicious and Johnny feels his stomach settle somewhat.

“Finally,” Donghyuck says when Johnny trudges into the kitchen. “I thought you’d died in the shower.”

“If only,” Johnny mutters, collapsing on a chair.

Donghyuck sets a plate of eggs and porridge down on the table and pushes it over to Johnny. “Eat.”

“I don’t need you to make me breakfast,” Johnny mumbles, squinting up at him. “Despite what you might think, I am more than capable of taking care of myself.”

Donghyuck looks unimpressed. “Eat before your food gets cold.”

Johnny sighs again and takes a bite of the porridge, closing his eyes when the salty goodness hits his tongue. “This is good,” he admits grudgingly.

“I know,” Donghyuck says, drawing a leg up to his chest, resting his chin on his knee contemplatively. “You’re lucky I didn’t have any schedules today.”

“It’s not luck,” Johnny says affronted. “Unlike you, I actually plan my drunken exploits responsibly.” Donghyuck sticks out his tongue at him.

Johnny squints at him. “ _What_ are you doing here, Donghyuck?”

Donghyuck gazes at him for a second before shifting a little and pulling his phone out of his back pocket - Johnny wonders to himself how it had survived hanging out by the last few inches - and placing it on the table. “This,” he says quietly, eyes flicking up to meet Johnny’s gaze and Johnny sees something in them, something he can’t quite decipher. “You called me last night.”

Johnny’s breath cuts out from him. What could he have said? What could he have possibly said to make Donghyuck look like that? “Wh- when?”

“Around three?” Donghyuck shrugs. “I don’t know, I was half-asleep.”

“Did I say anything?” Johnny asks, hoping he’s coming across as calm and steady.

Donghyuck snorts, and the expression vanishes. “Not much was intelligible, you just kind of mumbled for a bit, told me you were proud of me and then started snoring.”

Johnny huffs out a laugh, relief shooting through him. “Well, you already knew that. Is that why you came over?”

Donghyuck’s eyes lighten a little, sliding the phone back towards himself. “I was worried you were lying in a puddle of your own vomit. But also…” he trails off, still watching Johnny with those knowing eyes that Johnny hates so much. “We- you’ve been weird since that night.”

Johnny winces. That night was still burned into his mind, a small amount, but just enough that it kept prodding at his nerves, kept him on the edge. “I didn’t mean to-” He cuts himself off, because Donghyuck’s face is falling again. “It was a weird night, okay, Hyuck-ah? It’s nothing to do with you, I promise.”

Donghyuck pulls his other leg up to his chest and tilts his head. “You promise me a lot of things, hyung.” It’s not a statement as much as it is a confirmation made outloud.

Johnny considers this. “Yes, I do.” He meets Donghyuck’s eyes. “What do you want, Donghyuck?” It’s not a question, more of something to say in the silence because he doesn’t know how to explain himself. How to tell Donghyuck that his constrained distance isn’t a byproduct of Donghyuck’s relationship but more Johnny’s inability to swallow his feelings and lock them away in tiny little boxes, never to be revealed in the light of day.

Donghyuck grins, a sharp curling mockery of a smile. “Why, I want everything, hyungie. But you already knew that.”

“Yeah,” Johnny says, an easy smile tipping onto his face as he considers Donghyuck, honey drenched skin gleaming in the early morning light.

“What do _you_ want, hyung?” Donghyuck asks, a sweet melodic tone disguising an impossible question. Johnny watches him as the sharpness melts out of his eyes, melts out of his bones until he’s back to the Donghyuck Johnny knows. Knows and wants. Knows and _loves_.

Johnny looks away. “Nothing.” He echoes easily. “You know that.”

 _You_.

 

_Three Years Ago_

Sometimes Johnny forgets that Donghyuck existed in the industry before he came on as manager. It’s a horribly self-involved thing to think, given that he does about 30% of the work when it comes to Donghyuck’s success - maybe not even that.

But he forgets that Donghyuck was once a different person, a whole separate entity, surviving the harsh, cruel world of the idol industry on his own for two years before he let Johnny in, decided he was someone worth trusting.

He forgets that Donghyuck had learned how to guard himself, built up solid walls made of concrete and iron, hiding his heart and his smile behind a coldly crafted personality, and a chilling twinkle in his eye.

But now, sheltered behind a dozen cameras, all pointed unerringly at the three hosts and Donghyuck sitting in the middle of a icy blue set, Johnny remembers that persona, remembers it being directed at him for the better part of a year. He’s glad for it now, as the hosts hurl questions meant to distract and ruin at Donghyuck. Donghyuck takes every one of them with a sweet smile, the venom in his eyes only just hidden behind the glare of the lights.

Sometimes Johnny forgets that Donghyuck had survived a very long time alone, and he wonders to himself, watching Donghyuck straighten in his chair, correcting his posture despite the five straight hours of filming he’d gone through, if Donghyuck knows he isn’t alone anymore.

 

 

_Present_

Kim Doyoung is funny and cute and lovely and charming and _everything_ that Johnny should want. Used to want, so desperately that it seemed to hurt a little, carving out a hollow cave into his stomach as he lay staring up at a graying ceiling, wondering over the destroyed remains of his life.

Kim Doyoung is gracious and has a beautiful smile and allows Johnny the discourtesy of being thirty minutes late to their dinner because of a wardrobe mishap for Donghyuck’s schedule tomorrow, brushing it away with nothing but a sweet laugh and a table full of appetizers, ready for Johnny to devour, which he does in his half-starved state. Kim Doyoung was Johnny’s ideal person.

Until Donghyuck came around. Until he wormed his way into every nook, every crevice of Johnny’s bones with a mischievous smile and a warm heart. Until he became so embedded in Johnny, he doesn’t know what he’d do without Donghyuck in his life anymore.

But he can’t think about this right now, not when he has Doyoung sitting across from him, a dimple digging into the curve of his cheek as he tries not to laugh too hard at some inane joke Johnny was telling. He shouldn’t be thinking about Donghyuck when he’s on a date with someone he’s admired for years. He _shouldn’t_...but why does his mind constantly go back to Donghyuck?

 

It’s a bad decision, but Johnny takes him back to his apartment anyway. The date had gone well, far better than Johnny had been expecting. When he asks, tentative and hesitant, of all the possibilities, the different ways his future could pan out, hovering in front of him, Doyoung agrees in that way that he has, shy and confident at the same time, glancing up at Johnny through his eyelashes with a warm smile as he follows Johnny to his apartment.

“You’re not allowed to judge me for the state of my apartment,” Johnny warns as he inputs his pin, glancing over his shoulder at Doyoung who only smiles at him.

“I’m not really here for the apartment,” Doyoung says, coy and so, so lovely that Johnny caves. Whirls around and pins him to the door and pulls him into a kiss. Doyoung lets out a soft noise, his hands coming up to yank Johnny closer, nails clawing into his coat and Johnny revels in the fire licking along his veins, pressing Doyoung against the door harder. “Youngho,” Doyoung whispers, sounding a little broken already and Johnny can’t help the satisfaction that rolls through him at reducing Doyoung so low, so fast.

His thigh finds its way in between Doyoung’s legs and Doyoung whines, pulling away and tipping his head as far back as it can go with the door still acting as a barrier. Johnny traces the line of his jaw with his lips, nipping his way down, enough that it stings but not enough to leave a mark. His fingers dig into Johnny’s shoulder as he rolls his hips up, seeking friction where he can get it.

“I never- never do this,” Doyoung gasps as he kisses Johnny again. “You’re making me break all my rules.”

Johnny smiles, pleased. “I’m glad,” he murmurs, before licking into Doyoung’s mouth and gently capturing his bottom lip between his own.

They make out messily against the door for a while before Doyoung lets out a keening noise and yanks Johnny closer, hips stuttering against his thigh.

“Bed?” Johnny asks lowly, coming up to meet Doyoung’s eyes. Doyoung nods, and loops his arms around Johnny’s neck.

“Bed,” he agrees and lets out a yelp when Johnny wraps his hands around Doyoung’s thighs and hauls him upward. “Oh my god,” Doyoung laughs, staring down at Johnny with a heaving chest. “Get me to bed now.”

“Sure, babe,” Johnny murmurs and takes a breath, closing his eyes.

Donghyuck’s face doesn’t flash in his mind once. It doesn’t.

 

Johnny wakes up to the smell of breakfast. He stares in confusion at his ceiling before twisting around in bed to find an empty space next to him. Doyoung is making eggs when Johnny stumbles into his kitchen, running a hand through his hair to push it off his face.

“You’re making me breakfast?” Johnny asks in confusion and Doyoung turns around with a wide smile.

“I was feeling courteous,” Doyoung says, gesturing for Johnny to take a seat. “Were you expecting for me to have left?”

Johnny shrugs. “I haven’t done this a long time, I don’t know the protocol.”

“Neither do I.” Doyoung says mildly amused, setting the food down on the table. “We match well, then.” he considers Johnny as they eat. “It’s not going to happen again though, is it.”

Johnny can’t help the rueful smile that crosses over his face. Even sleeping with someone else couldn’t get Donghyuck out of his head, and it was clear that he hadn’t managed to hide it from Doyoung. And Kim Doyoung was no one’s second choice. They both knew that. “No,” he agrees. “It won’t. But I would like us to remain friends.”

“Yes, I would too.” Doyoung nods, a small smirk crossing his face. "Can't give up that lovely scenery for anything."

Johnny laughs as Doyoung very pointedly looks down at his chest. They sit together until they finish breakfast, chatting about Doyoung's upcoming album which he refuses to spoil anything about despite Johnny's pleading.

Right before Doyoung is about to leave, his coat over his arm and his hat pulled down low over his eyes to protect from any prying eyes - though Johnny had reminded him again that no one knew or cared about what Johnny did or where he lived - he turns around and places his hand on Johnny's chest, stretching up to place a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth.

"Thanks for a nice time, Youngho," Doyoung murmurs and Johnny smiles down at him, fondness swelling up in him. He wishes they could have been something. He could see it, a whole future stretching out in front of him with Doyoung, being head over heels in love with him, and loving every second of their time together.

“I wish it could have been something more than one night,” Johnny tells him because at the core of it all, he is a romantic at heart. And Doyoung would have been the perfect fairytale romance.

“Yes,” Doyoung smiles but there’s nothing bitter in his expression. “We would have been quite extraordinary, I think.”

They could have had a whole future together.

But that future didn't include Donghyuck. And that meant it was never an option.

 

When Doyoung opens the door, Donghyuck stands on the other side, hand raised, poised to knock.

"Donghyuck," Johnny says, shocked, his hand still frozen on Doyoung's shoulder. Doyoung doesn't miss a beat, just twists back around to smack a tiny kiss on Johnny's mouth.

"I couldn't help it," he mumbles against Johnny's mouth, a smirk twisting over pouty lips. He draws back and winks at Johnny who stares back at him helplessly, laughter bubbling up his throat. "See you later, Youngho." He brushes past Donghyuck with a bare nod.

"Um - text me when you get home!" Johnny calls over Donghyuck's head before drawing back to stare incredulously at Donghyuck. "What are you doing here?"

Donghyuck stares up at him. "What was he doing here?" He snaps, pulling his mask down.

"I asked first," Johnny shoots back, stepping back as Donghyuck pushes past him into his apartment. He sees Donghyuck's expression tighten when he catches sight of the empty plates, still sitting on his table.

"You told me you needed me for interview prep," Donghyuck says, turning to face Johnny.

"No, I didn't," Johnny says, immediately flicking to his mental calendar. "You have a free Sunday. Unbelievably."

"No you didn't," Donghyuck agrees, caving immediately and folding his arms across his chest and glowering up at Johnny. "He spent the night." It's a statement, not a question, and Johnny tries to ignore his heart kicking into high gear.

“He did,” Johnny agrees. “He’s allowed to.” He doesn’t know why he’s trying to defend himself against Donghyuck but he feels very much on the back foot here. He could point out the many nights Donghyuck has spent in the arms of other boys, some far less than worthy of doing so. But Johnny, no matter how exhausted he is, isn’t that petty.

Donghyuck stares him for a beat. “He calls you ‘Youngho’.”

Johnny stares back. He can barely keep up with Donghyuck’s repartee on a normal day, but it’s even harder to do so when he’s just woken up and on the backfoot for something he doesn’t understand quite yet. “And?”

Something flashes across Donghyuck’s face. “You don’t tell anyone to call you that. Only your mom calls you that.”

“Well,” Johnny shrugs, moving around Donghyuck to gather the empty plates and drop them in the sink to be dealt with later. “It doesn’t really matter now, does it.”

“It does,” Donghyuck insists, following him. “Why don’t you let me call you that?”

Johnny rounds on him, confusion rolling through him. “Do you _want_ to?”

Donghyuck purses his lips. “No- not really but -”

“Then what do you want, Hyuck?” Johnny asks, sagging against his counter in exhaustion. “I am allowed to have my own life, you know.”

“I never said you didn’t-”

“So why do you care?” Johnny snaps and he regrets as soon as it leaves his mouth because it comes out harsh and cold and nothing like what he’s spoken to Donghyuck before.

Donghyuck blinks, a conflicted look crossing his face. “I- I don’t.” He tilts his head, frowning at the ground, for the first time looking away from Johnny since he’d entered. “I don’t care.”

It doesn’t sound like a statement. It sounds like a question.

 

_Three Weeks Later_

Three weeks later, the atmosphere around them is still frosty. Well, as frosty as it can be when they both have a million things to fit into a 24 hour day and are constantly around each other with no breathing room.

Johnny starts out confused and a little frustrated, because when Donghyuck clams up, he does so hard and full of steel, so closed off that it would take an army to pry him back open. Johnny moves very quickly to full-on annoyance and anger, because two weeks after Donghyuck had turned on his heel and left Johnny’s apartment without another word or an explanation, Donghyuck still hasn’t spoken to him, other than the odd grunt in acknowledgment when Johnny tells him things.

The third week, Johnny keys in the password to Donghyuck’s apartment at dawn, the sun’s fingers peeking over the horizon, warm and inviting where the rest of the day would not be, to find Donghyuck awake and fully dressed, sipping at a travel mug.

“Finally,” he says, sharp and a little mean, in a way he never is towards Johnny, getting up off the couch and brushing past Johnny, his shoes already on and his bag sitting by the door. “I’ve been waiting forever.”

Johnny grits his teeth but follows him, slamming the door shut behind him. Donghyuck doesn’t even look at him as he climbs into the back seat, tugging his hood lower over his forehead. Johnny sighs and starts the engine. Low music pours from the speakers as Johnny pulls onto the highway, but this time it does nothing to soothe the frantic pounding of his heart.

 

 

_Four Weeks Later_

It gets worse when they bump into Mark Lee at eight am on stage during rehearsals for Inkigayo.

Mark Lee blinks at them, sliding his in-ears out of their place, a smile overtaking his face and Johnny doesn’t know him well enough to tell whether or not it sits awkwardly on his face. “Donghyuck,” he says in surprise. “Wow- hi.”

Donghyuck stiffens hard and he takes a step back, slamming into Johnny’s chest. Johnny can feel how hard he’s trying not to tremble. “Hey,” he says, and it comes out calm and not at all shaky and Johnny takes a minute step forward, so that his front rests against Donghyuck’s back and takes slow deep breaths, gratified when Donghyuck mirrors them.

“How- how are you doing?” Mark asks.

“Great,” Donghyuck says. “I’m doing great. How are you?”

“Great,” Mark nods. “Yeah- great.”

They stare at each other for a several moments, the awkwardness building until Johnny can’t stand it anymore and clears his throat. “Hyuck, you have to be on stage in a few minutes.”

Donghyuck jerks, coming alive. “Yeah,” he says, nodding at Mark. “I - um - it was nice to see you again.” He takes a step forward, smiling at Mark - and Johnny does know Donghyuck well enough to tell that it does sit awkwardly on his face - before walking away. And Johnny’s not strong enough to stop the rush of pride welling through him as Donghyuck leads the way.

Johnny clears his throat again when they’re standing in the crowded mess that makes up the backstage. It’s quiet and hardly attention calling but Donghyuck still looks up at him, fiddling with his mic pack, a questioning look in his eyes. “I know we’re not exactly talking right now,” he murmurs, holding the mic pack for Donghyuck as he threads it up his shirt. “But I’m so proud of the way you handled that.” He meets Donghyuck’s eyes as he turns back around. “I’m proud of you.”

Donghyuck looks flustered, a little pink coming high into his cheeks. “T-thanks, hyung.”

So maybe it won’t get worse. Maybe it’ll get better.

 

_Five Weeks Later_

Taeil swivels around in his chair, his fingers steepled together. “Well, Johnny,” he says, eyebrow arched. “You’ve been quite a miracle worker around here.” Johnny sits still, waiting, and in the next few seconds, the seriousness melts from Taeil’s face and he grins, leaning forward. “How was that, what’d you think?” He asks eagerly. “I want to use that at the next investors meeting. Was that intimidating enough?”

“Very, sir,” Johnny agrees, trying to not let his mouth twitch into a smile. “What was the purpose of this meeting, sir?”

Taeil waves his hand, settling back into his chair. “Oh, nothing much. I just wanted to check in with you, it’s been four years and you’ve been doing _very_ well with Haechan.”

Johnny nods, consideringly. “Yes, sir. I believe we work well together.”

“Yes, you do.” Taeil agrees. “Which is why I am _loathe_ to offer you a promotion but I feel I would be doing you a great injustice if I held you back.”

Johnny raises his eyebrows. “A promotion?”

“Yes,” Taeil hums, producing a grape juice pouch from nowhere and idly draining it. “You’d be put in at a mid-level position in our PR branch. It’s a wonderful starting place with nothing to say of the benefits and salary increase.”

“Oh,” Johnny looks down at his hands. It’s out of the left field, considering how little formal education he’s had and the current position he occupies. “Thank you sir, it’s a very - a _very_ \- generous offer. But may I have some time to consider?”

“Mmm,” Taeil hums, waving his hand at Johnny. “Yes, take your time. I’d understand if you prefer to stay at your current position, Gaia below knows I’d have the _worst_ time trying to find a replacement for you.”

“Thank you, sir,” Johnny says, bowing as he leaves. “It really is - thank you.”

“Stop thanking me, Johnny,” Taeil warns, spinning around in his chair, one leg elegantly flung out as if he were an ice skater. “I have too much good karma already, you’ll upset the balance.”

Johnny can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of him as he shuts the door behind him.

 

 

_Five Weeks and Three Days Later_

The door to Johnny’s office slams open and Johnny jumps in his seat, whirling around in his seat to find Donghyuck standing in his doorway, lips pressed together and trembling.

“Hyuck,” Johnny starts in confusion. “What-”

“You can’t leave,” Donghyuck blurts, shutting the door behind him and Johnny notices his hands are shaking. “I know - I _know_ I’m awful and I’ve been horrible to you for _no_ reason and I’m difficult to handle and -and-”

Johnny jumps up, pulling Donghyuck into the spare chair. “Stop,” he says worriedly. “Stop and take a breath.”

“You can’t leave,” Donghyuck says, shaking in his seat, staring at Johnny with desperate eyes. “Hyung, I can’t - I can’t do this without you, I can’t- you - you mean too much to me and I _need_ you here-”

“Who told you I was leaving?” Johnny breaks in, mind racing trying to figure it out.

“Does it matter?” Donghyuck whispers, voice breaking. “You’re going to take the promotion - and I know you _should_ and I’m selfish for telling you not to - I’m so, so selfish, but please, hyung, please, _please_ don’t.”

“I’m not taking the job,” Johnny cuts in before Donghyuck can talk himself into a panic attack. “Donghyuck, please, _breathe_. I’m not taking the job - I’m not going to leave. I told Taeil the next day. I’m not going to leave _you_.”

Donghyuck stares at him, eyes wide and glistening. “You’re- you’re not?”

“No,” Johnny murmurs, sliding his chair closer and cupping Donghyuck’s cheek, gently scratching through his hair, ignoring the clamoring in his brain that tells him _stop._ Tells him _move back_. Tells him _you can’t lose this one_. “No, Donghyuck, I made you a promise.” He ducks his head a little to meet Donghyuck’s gaze. “I made you a promise, and I _keep_ my promises.”

Donghyuck lets out a jerky sob and collapses into Johnny’s arms, throwing his arms around Johnny’s neck and burying his face there. “Hyung,” he hiccups. “I’m sorry, I w-was horrible to you and I’m _sorry_.”

“Shh,” Johnny hums, stroking Donghyuck’s hair. He closes his eyes and forces back the burning in his eyes, the solid block rising in his throat. “It’s okay, Hyuck. It’s okay. I promise, I won’t leave you. I promise.”

 

 

_Seven Weeks Later_

The frostiness disappears, but the tension does not.

No matter what Johnny does, he can’t escape Donghyuck’s gaze following him around. It’s not awful but it’s… unnerving. Donghyuck watches him all the time, gazing at him through brightly multi-coloured bangs, eyes dark and indecipherable. The worst part is, when Johnny looks back, as if challenging him, Donghyuck doesn’t look away. Just meets his gaze squarely and head on, and he _doesn’t_ look away.

“You need to stop doing that,” Johnny says finally, weeks later, because he can’t take it anymore. He’s going to snap if Donghyuck keeps looking at him, and in his position, he can’t afford to do that.

Donghyuck rolls his head sideways to look at him, lifting his hood with his forefinger to eye Johnny. He’s moved back to his usual seat of shotgun and his feet are propped up on the dash despite Johnny’s nonstop protests. “Stop what?” He asks.

Johnny swallows, looking away as he pulls into the parking garage of Donghyuck’s apartment. He coughs and summons up the last remaining shreds of his courage. “You need to stop looking at me.”

He expects Donghyuck to deny it. He expects him to come up with some half-baked excuse, lying out of his ass with that wide-eyed innocent gaze he always tries with Johnny. He doesn’t expect Donghyuck to shrug his hood off, turning fully in his seat to look at Johnny as he shuts off the engine and meets his gaze. “Why?” He asks, drawing his feet back and tilting his head to the right.

“ _Why_?” Johnny repeats incredulously, clicking open the door lock and hopping out, opening the side of the van to grab Donghyuck’s packages. “Because, Donghyuck - it’s _distracting_.”

Donghyuck hops out of the van as well, following him to the elevator, a wicked curl of a smile on his lips. “Distracting,” he echoes, smirking. “Doesn’t that mean I should keep doing it?”

Johnny frowns down at him, nudging the button for Donghyuck’s floor with his elbow. Donghyuck trudges behind him, his long sweatpants dragging on the floor, despite his sneakers giving him the extra lift. “No,” he bites out.

“Why not?” Donghyuck asks, looking up at him and moving forward. Johnny tries to back away but his back hits the mirror covering the elevator walls. “Why not, hyungie?”

Oh, _there’s_ a name Johnny hasn’t heard in a while. “Because-” Johnny swallows, looking over Donghyuck’s head. “Because I’ve got a job to do. And you shouldn’t be deterring me from that job.”

“Oh, big words,” Donghyuck praises mockingly just as the elevator doors _ding_ open. He doesn’t say anything else until they’re safe inside the four walls of Donghyuck’s apartment, the darkness closing in around them as Johnny carefully sets down Donghyuck’s things on his table. “I’m your job, though, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” Johnny hums, turning around only to bump into Donghyuck, standing right behind him. Johnny jumps, not expecting their proximity. “Oh my god, Hyuck, give me a little warning.”

“So if I’m your job,” Donghyuck continues, and it’s only from the low light of the streetlights outside that Johnny can see Donghyuck gazing at his mouth, his own tongue dipping out to lick at his lips. Donghyuck stretches up onto his toes and Johnny feels an involuntary shiver run through him when Donghyuck whispers. “Doesn’t that mean you should do me?”

Johnny jerks, staring as Donghyuck drops back down onto his heels, looking up at Johnny. “Donghyuck,” Johnny says, voice hoarse. “You should stop.”

“Why?”

Johnny closes his eyes. “Because you don’t want this - I know you don’t. So please, stop.”

“And what if I do?”

Johnny opens his eyes, biting down on the frustration that ripples through him. “I don’t know if you still think I’m going to leave and that’s why you’re doing this but I _won’t_ okay, so just - stop- and-” his breath leaves him in a silent _whoosh_ when Donghyuck presses him back up the table, slowly and deliberately, his hand burning a hole through Johnny’s shirt where it’s resting on his chest, above his heart. The shine of the street light crosses over his face, illuminating his eyes.

“Do you know what you really said on that voicemail you left?” He asks and Johnny’s blood goes cold despite the heat rushing through him. Donghyuck blinks at him once, slow and careful, his eyelashes brushing over his cheekbones before continuing. “You told me you were in love with me. That you felt it every day, everytime you looked at me. You said it _hurt_ ,” he whispers, his fingers clenching a little on Johnny’s chest and distantly Johnny wonders if Donghyuck can feel his heart threatening to rip out of his chest under his fingertips. “But it was the most _exquisite_ pain you’d ever felt.” A small flicker of a smile crosses his mouth and Johnny’s gaze gets drawn there. “You actually managed to say ‘exquisite’ in that state, I was kind of impressed.”

“I didn’t-” Johnny starts, his voice cracking through the sentence because this is it. This is the beginning of his end.

“You did,” Donghyuck says, and his eyes haven’t left Johnny’s once. It would be impressive if Johnny wasn’t terrified out of his mind right now. “Hyung,” Donghyuck breathes. “Johnny.” He tilts his head up, hand coming up off Johnny’s chest to curl around his neck. “You’ve given me so much. Let me have this too. Let me want you too.”

And that was it, really. There’s nothing Johnny hasn’t given Donghyuck, with the exception of that one night, where the rain had glittered off the oil slick pavement, mirroring the gloss on Donghyuck’s lips as he’d asked Johnny, so sinfully sweet, candy dripping from his lips, for a kiss. There’s nothing Johnny hasn’t given Donghyuck. So it stands to reason, he’d give this to him too.

Johnny lets Donghyuck pull him in, his eyes fluttering shut under the guidance of Donghyuck’s hand, steady and sure, reeling Johnny in for a kiss.

It feels like everything all at once. Johnny can’t help the gasp that rips out of him, embarrassing as it is for him to be so undone by a simple kiss. Donghyuck’s hand tightens around his neck and Johnny moves, finally, _finally_ touching Donghyuck like he’d been aching to for months, and wrapping his arms around Donghyuck’s waist and turning them so Donghyuck’s braced against the table.

“Hyung,” Donghyuck gasps, their mouths sliding together, and Johnny should stop, he should stop, should pull away, should do anything but push Donghyuck up on the table and kiss him harder, his hand sliding up Donghyuck’s thigh. Donghyuck’s other hand comes up around his neck and yanks him closer, and Johnny braces himself against the table. It’s too hot all of a sudden, too suffocating in the space between them, and Johnny shudders when Donghyuck’s nails rake down his back, digging into the space between his shoulder blades. Donghyuck lets out a quiet moan, lifting his hips to grind messily against Johnny and Johnny echoes it, one hand coming up off the table to slide up Donghyuck’s shirt, seeking out the wide expanse of caramel drenched skin, wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer.

Donghyuck pulls away to gasp unsteadily against his lips, and Johnny has to wrench himself back before he chases him, chases those slick, cherry red lips, and bites until he can make them redder. His hand clenches around Donghyuck’s waist and he aches to pull him back, spread him out across the table and kiss him until they both know nothing else. Donghyuck stares up at him, mouth open and chest heaving.

“We should stop,” Johnny says hoarsely, forcing himself to let go.

Donghyuck shakes his head, hand cupping his cheek, and pulls Johnny back for a kiss, his other hand scratching through his hair gently. “No, we shouldn’t,” he whispers. “But what we should do is _not_ fuck on my dining table.”

Johnny chokes on nothing. “Oh my god, Hyuck.”

Donghyuck grins up at him, his legs drawing up to wrap around Johnny’s waist. “Please, hyungie,” he says and _oh_ , he’s so dangerous, he’s so, so dangerous for Johnny. He’s all glittering gold and dark temptation and he’ll take Johnny down with nothing but a few sweetly whispered words, and Johnny, the fool that he is, he’d let him. “ _Please._ ”

 

It’s a sad thing that Johnny’s never going to be able to wake Donghyuck up again. He’s just going to have to settle for an alarm clock. When he tells Donghyuck this, hushed and hurried in the dim light of Donghyuck’s bedroom, Donghyuck laughs.

“Why?” He asks, eyes brightening with delight as he wrenches Johnny’s shirt off and runs his hand down his chest, burning a trail down Johnny’s skin.

“I don’t think you understand how _good_ you look right now,” Johnny informs him hoarsely, his mouth going dry at the sight of Donghyuck spread out on his bed. He’s still fully clothed, but his hair’s a mess and his lips are swollen already and his eyes are so dark and so inviting. “I’m never going to be able to look at on you on this bed again without thinking of this.”

Donghyuck’s delight sharpens. “Good,” he all but purrs, and drags Johnny down over him and kisses him, his tongue doing truly filthy things inside Johnny’s mouth. Donghyuck flips them around before Johnny can blink and kisses him again. “We are _so_ fucking against a wall later,” he mumbles against his lips and Johnny can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of his throat, feeling so fond at the worst time.

Donghyuck’s hands are quick, divesting Johnny of all of his clothes in no time. But Johnny takes his time, slowly dragging his hands over every inch of Donghyuck’s honey warm skin as he pushes him back on the bed, kissing him breathless the whole time. Donghyuck’s back arches off the covers when Johnny runs his hands up his sides, mouth dropping open as he shivers under Johnny’s touch. He takes his time, slowly mapping out the expanse of Donghyuck’s body with his lips, tracing the mole patterns on his cheeks, pressing a kiss over his heart. He takes his time marking up Donghyuck’s legs, because cameras are invasive, penetrating tools, and Johnny would rather not have his indiscretions be broadcasted to the world.

“Hyung- Johnny,” Donghyuck says, breathless and impatient when Johnny draws back up to kiss him again, his thighs littered with glittering red and purple bruises and his fingers clenched in Johnny’s hair. Johnny’s impatient too, has been for months and months, and it’s only intensified by the desperate look in Donghyuck’s eyes. “Just - do _something_.”

And just like that the slowness disappears and the fire flickers back up around him, and Johnny can’t help the noise he makes, desperate and full of pure _want_ when he kisses Donghyuck again. It’s bruising and harsh but the moan that rips out of Donghyuck clearly says he agrees with Johnny.

 

There’s nothing sweet about the way Johnny pushes into Donghyuck. He tries to be slow, tries to watch Donghyuck’s face for any sign of discomfort, but Donghyuck just yanks on Johnny’s hair and tells him expressly to _ruin me_. And Johnny’s given Donghyuck whatever he wants this whole time. Why would he stop now?

The first slam of Johnny’s hips against Donghyuck’s skin makes his mouth drop open, and the next makes him cry out, and the next makes him pull tighter on Johnny’s hair and the next and the next and the next-

“Fuck,” Johnny grits out and Donghyuck lets out a helpless whine, his legs wrapped tightly around Johnny’s waist. One of his hands come up to fumble at Johnny’s, still clenched tightly in the sheets by Donghyuck’s head, and Johnny’s heart swells when their fingers interlace, a brief moment of sweet intimacy.

“Hyung,” Donghyuck gasps out, throwing his head back, and Johnny is helpless to do anything but follow the line of his jaw down to his collarbone, biting and kissing. It’s messy and nothing like what his first time with Donghyuck should have been. But, god, if it isn’t the best feeling in the world.

“God, baby,” Johnny whispers, staring down at him. “You’re beautiful.”

Donghyuck lets out a little cry and his free hand slips from Johnny’s hair to cover his face in embarrassment. “Stop talking,” he whines. “Oh my god, I’m going to explode.”

Johnny lets out a huffed laugh. “Whatever you want, baby.” His knees slip further apart on the bed and Donghyuck gasps when Johnny slams into him harder, fucking him so forcefully it feels nasty, more than a little filthy.

“Hyung,” Donghyuck whimpers, pressing a messy kiss to the side of Johnny’s face. “I’m going to - going to come, please.” Johnny watches his face as he does, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip and his eyes scrunching up in the most attractive way. He shudders through the force and Johnny’s stomach curls in delicious arousal.

It takes less than a minute for Johnny to follow, his fingers wrenching in the sheets as he comes, burying his groan in the curve of Donghyuck’s neck. He slumps down on top of Donghyuck, careful not to squish him under his weight. Donghyuck’s breathing echoes his own as Johnny rolls off, staring up at the ceiling for a second before turning back to Donghyuck.

Donghyuck’s watching him, his gaze open and knowing.

“Did that just happen?” Johnny asks, hoarsely, and smiles when Donghyuck laughs, curving towards him and cupping his cheek.

“You sound so shocked,” he says easily.

Johnny shrugs as best he can before sliding out of bed to clean himself off, throwing some boxers on before turning back to Donghyuck and holding out a clean towel. “I liked you for a very long time,” he admits quietly, heat covering his cheeks in embarrassment. “You were a pipe dream, Hyuck. And I was okay with that, but this-” Johnny huffs out a laugh as he crawls back into bed. “This was really something out of a daydream.”

“You used to daydream about this?” Donghyuck teases, but the fondness in his eyes is overwhelming as he curls up next to Johnny, his head resting above his heart.

“All the time,” Johnny whispers. The admissions comes easier like this, sated and vulnerable in the dark of Donghyuck’s room. “I really do love you, you know. Drunk me knew what he was saying.”

“Good,” Donghyuck whispers, tracing out mindless patterns on Johnny’s chest with his fingertip, before glancing up at Johnny through his eyelashes. “Because you’re _mine_ and no one or nothing is going to take you away from me.”

Johnny smiles up at the ceiling, warmth invading every nerve ending in his body until it feels like he’s being lit up by a thousand candles, honey sweet wax dripping across his lungs and his heart, making it hard for him to breath. He presses a kiss to Donghyuck’s hair. “I’m okay with that,” he murmurs.

 

 

_One Year Later_

“I wish you were coming,” Donghyuck sighs, lounging in bed watching Johnny check his luggage over and over again. “I can’t believe you let your visa expire.”

Johnny shoots him a dirty look. “It’s all your fault, brat.”

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow at him. “How?” He asks incredulously. “How is it possibly _my_ fault that you forgot to renew your visa and now have to go _back_ to the States before my tour?”

“You’re very distracting,” Johnny says. “You keep making me do my job.”

It’s become a bit of an inside joke with the two of them, idiotic as other people might find it, but Donghyuck laughs, flopping backwards on the bed. “I’m keeping you dedicated, hyungie.” He says brightly. “It’s not my fault you get distracted so easily.”

Johnny abandons his luggage on the floor of his bedroom, sadly spread open, and moves to the bed, dropping down next to Donghyuck and yanking him closer, grinning at Donghyuck’s giggles. “You’re infuriating,” Johnny says kissing him.

Donghyuck lets out a happy noise, his hand finding its regular spot in Johnny’s hair, and pulls him closer, wrapping a leg around his waist. They stop talking for a while and Johnny loses himself in Donghyuck, closing his eyes and savouring the little time they have together before he has to get back on a plane.

“You’re letting me go off on my own,” Donghyuck whines, when they finally separate and Johnny’s eyes lock onto his lips, jewel red and completely wrecked. “You _know_ I get cranky in the heat.”

“God, you’re spoiled,” Johnny sighs, turning over on his back so Donghyuck can flop atop him, his head pillowed on Johnny’s chest.

“Only because you encourage me,” Donghyuck trills. “Whatever I am, it’s _all_ because of you.”

Johnny grunts in dissatisfaction and Donghyuck laughs in quiet delight before wrapping his arms around Johnny’s shoulders and propping himself up to gaze at Johnny.

“What?” Johnny asks, hand coming up to gently brush Donghyuck’s bangs off his head.

“I’ll miss you,” Donghyuck murmurs, a pout forming on his mouth. “Come back quick.”

“It’s a two week trip, Hyuckie,” Johnny says fondly, cupping his cheek. “I’ll be back as soon as I’m done battling the United States government for rights to live here.”

Donghyuck sniffs but drops back down to nestle against Johnny’s chest. “I know,” he sighs, tipping his ear so it rests against Johnny’s sternum. Johnny watches as a delighted smile overtakes the pout, his eyes glimmering in quiet wonder. “I can hear your heartbeat,” he whispers, pressing his ear harder to Johnny’s chest, his fingers curling the neckline of Johnny’s shirt.

“Yeah, baby,” Johnny hums, unable to stop the satisfied grin from crawling over his mouth. “It beats only for you.”

“Hyung, that’s _disgusting_ , I can’t believe you just said that, oh my god-”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! please let me know what you thought!! <3
> 
> absolutely gorgeous [art](https://twitter.com/yaori94/status/1132673891111882752) of the club scene
> 
>  
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/_donghyuck_)   
>  [cc](https://curiouscat.me/hyxcheis)   
>  [kofi](https://ko-fi.com/hyxcheis)


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